


Millennium

by eirien



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Character Death, F/M, History, M/M, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirien/pseuds/eirien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando is a postgraduate History student and part-time tutor. Sean is the head of History at the university he studies at. As Orlando comes to terms with the loss of Viggo, Sean offers him a chance of a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ****Heavy angst in the Prologue**** 
> 
> Character death (kind of)
> 
> If you can get past that I hope you will enjoy the rest.
> 
> Dedication: For all the history buffs out there. 
> 
> NB: I do not make a living as a historian although I try to research to make references as accurate as possible I will take artisitc liberties from time to time. ;-) In other words - unless it's a massive error (like putting Henry VIII in a room with Richard I) I'm not going to worry too much at this stage.
> 
> First published 2004

Orlando felt the tears stream down his face and drop from his chin onto his collar but made no attempt to wipe them away. He had become so used to them, since his lover’s life had been taken in a freak accident, that he barely even noticed them now. He stood with the other mourners at the end of the funeral service only because it was an automatic reaction. Just like drinking, eating and sleeping… breathing… were nothing more than things his body needed to survive.

He didn’t begrudge his body its needs. Despite the worried glances from his friends and family he knew he wasn’t suicidal, did not want to end his life, but could no longer take any enjoyment from doing even those basic things. It didn’t matter what he ate or drank, it all tasted the same. When he awoke, whether it was sweat soaked and sobbing in the middle of the night, or in the morning, he was always tired.

At night he’d lay awake, waiting for sleep to come, and he’d listen to his own breathing in the silence. And he’d curse each breath, because each breath represented to him a moment, and each moment that passed took him further away from the one moment he wanted most to cling to. The last time he saw Viggo alive.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Call us if you need anything.”

“I’m sorry, Orlando.”

“It’s so unfair.”

Orlando shook hands, murmured responses, accepted hugs… his mind barely registering who was standing in front of him. He stood with Viggo’s family after the service, receiving the sympathy of friends and family. People who had loved Viggo too, or simply wanted to show their support for those left behind. When Orlando looked around the room, he saw a large number of Viggo’s colleagues and students had attended to pay their respects too. He knew some of them well, such as Sean, Orlando’s professor in History and Viggo’s best friend. To the casual observer Viggo and Sean were as different as chalk and cheese, except in their love of their chosen professions. But people who knew them well, like Orlando did, knew the affection and respect the two men held for each other. And Sean had become more to Orlando than his Professor; he’d become his friend as well.

Sean was talking to two young men and Orlando could tell by their obviously borrowed suits and the way their long hair had been combed back into neat ponytails that they were Viggo’s students. It touched his heart that they would make an effort like this and tears welled in his eyes.

Viggo had been a Professor in the Art Department of the university. His specialty had been photography, and although he also painted, taking images, developing them, learning new techniques and ways to use the camera had always been his first love. His classes had always been always filled to overflowing, but in his modest way Viggo had frequently told Orlando he viewed his classes not as lessons or lectures, but rather as collaborations with fellow photographers. He had treated his students as equals, helped them through their failures, and delighted in their successes.

_Viggo, I wonder if you knew how much they all loved you._

Orlando kept his eyes on Sean and the two men as the number of people coming over to talk to him thinned out. Sean was real, was part of his and Viggo’s inner circle, just like Viggo’s fifteen year old son, Henry, who was standing beside Orlando. He turned to him now and placed his hand on Henry’s back in a gesture of support. Henry looked up at him, his expression making him seem younger than Orlando knew him to be. The dazed, incredibly sad and lost look in his eyes would have broken Orlando’s heart, if it hadn’t already been shattered when he’d been told of Viggo’s death.

“How’re you doing?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I just want it to be over,” Henry whispered back. “I want to go home and just… you know…” Henry’s voice trailed off and he looked away when tears threatened to form in his eyes.

Orlando felt a lump form in his throat as he watched Viggo’s son try to control his emotions. He wanted to hug him, to tell him it was okay to cry, okay to show his pain, but he could understand that at fifteen Henry wanted to keep those emotions private. Instead he simply allowed himself to squeeze Henry’s shoulder.

“It will be soon,” he reassured him quietly. “Most of them are leaving now.”

“Yeah,” Henry replied and turned as some distant relative approached him.

Orlando turned his attention back to Sean. He was talking to one of the other professors from the university now, the students having left. As groups of people began leaving, Orlando could see Sean’s youngest daughter standing at his side, holding his hand. Evie. Viggo’s goddaughter. Orlando remembered the day she had been born, five years ago. Viggo had insisted on waiting by the phone all day, and finally the call had come from Sean with the news. They had opened a bottle of champagne, bought just for the occasion and had toasted Sean, Abby and their new daughter. Orlando remembered the way Viggo seemed to glow with happiness for his friend. Sean had already asked Viggo to stand as godfather and Viggo had spoken of all the things he was going to do with his goddaughter; how she was part of their family now, how he’d take her to Disneyland on holiday. He’d even written her a poem. Later that night, when visiting hours at the hospital were over, Sean had dropped by to find both Orlando and Viggo drunk on happiness as much as the alcohol and called them both crazy bastards, then hugged them tightly and helped them finish off another bottle of champagne. That had been a good day.

Then time had marched on and now, Sean and Abby were divorced… and Viggo had never gotten to take Evie to Disneyland.

Viggo had tried to make Sean give him back the poem he’d written the day she was born, saying he was in his cups when he wrote it, but Sean always refused. Orlando was glad now, he was glad that Evie had that little part of Viggo to keep for always.

As if she knew Orlando was thinking about her, Evie turned her head and met his gaze. Orlando gave her a weak smile, as much as he could manage through his tears. He watched as she tugged on Sean’s hand and said something to him. Sean looked up him for a long moment, then back down at his daughter and nodded and she let go of his hand and began to walk toward Orlando.

As she approached Orlando saw she was holding a flower. One simple long stemmed white lily. He crouched down when she got close.

“Hey, sweetie.”

“Hello, Uncle Orlando. This is for you,” she said a little shyly as she held out the lily.

Orlando hugged her as he took the flower and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, darling.” Orlando kept his arm around Evie, holding her loosely and she lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek.

“You’re crying.”

“Yes, sweetie. I miss Uncle Viggo.” Orlando placed his hand over her little one and curled his fingers around it, feeling the wetness of his tears on her palm. He gently lowered their hands from his face.

“Daddy does too. He’s been crying too. I told him boys aren’t supposed to cry.”

“You did?” Evie nodded and Orlando hugged her closer and kissed her on her hair. “I’ll tell you a little secret, but you must promise to never tell anyone else,” Orlando whispered. “Even boys have to cry sometimes.”

“I know,” Evie nodded again. “Daddy told me. He said that tears stay in your heart, and it hurts if you don’t let them out.”

_Ahhh, Sean…_

“He’s right, sweetie.”

Evie lifted her head and looked at Orlando. “I don’t want Daddy to hurt or you, so it’s okay if you cry, Uncle Orlando, even if it makes me sad.”

Orlando felt fresh tears sting his eyes and he shut them tightly, hugging Evie close to him.

“Daddy’s going to ask you to come over for dinner,” Evie said when Orlando released her. “Are you going to come?”

Orlando had made sure he didn’t have anything planned for after the funeral. He was sure that afterwards all he’d want was to be by himself, in the house he’d shared with Viggo, wanting to be alone with Viggo’s things before most of them would be taken away. But as he stood up now and looked down at Evie’s little face looking up at him, he found he suddenly wanted to be around people who understood, who loved Viggo as much as he did.

“That sounds wonderful, darling,” he said and gave her a small smile. “Will you go and tell your Daddy for me?”

“Okay,” she replied and when she stood on her tiptoes Orlando bent down so she could kiss his cheek.

He watched as she ran back to Sean, and he looked over at them hoping to get his attention to let him know it was okay and give him a sign to say thank you. But Sean wasn’t looking at him. Sean’s gaze was fixed on the person standing to his right, a frown of concern of his face. When Orlando turned to Henry he saw at once that Henry had heard his conversation with Evie.

He could tell by the tears falling down Henry’s face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Orlando waited outside as Sean stood in quiet conversation with Viggo’s ex-wife, Exene, outside the funeral home. He’d wanted a moment to himself and had excused himself, walking over to the other side of the carpark to sit on a small ledge and light a cigarette. Evie and Henry stood with their parents and Orlando threw away his cigarette and ground it out with his heel when he saw Henry begin to walk towards him.

“Hey, Orlando.”

“Hey.” Orlando gestured to Henry to sit beside him, and they sat together in silence for a few minutes. The day was warm and Orlando could smell the flowers lining the other side of the ledge on the air. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting the sun warm him, and wishing for what he wished for every second of the day, that Viggo was there with him to share in the simple moment. And Viggo would have been able to tell him the name of the flowers he could smell.

“Mom said we might call by next week. You know, to pick up some stuff. Is that okay?”

Orlando wanted to tell Henry that it wasn’t okay. That the house he shared with Viggo had become like a shrine, and everything in it had become precious to him, right down to the spoon Viggo had used to eat his cereal with the morning he’d left the house to have his life cut short by some driver too distracted to keep his eyes on the road.

“Of course it’s okay,” he said softly, turning to face him. “Henry, your father loved you more than he loved anyone else in the world. You were everything to him, and everything he had is yours now. He would want you to have it, and I want you to as well.”

Henry blushed a little and looked down at his shoes. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you.”

“It is.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and Orlando thought about the young man sitting next to him. Henry had grown so much in the years since he and Viggo had first started seeing each other. Orlando had known right from the start that Henry had and always would come first with Viggo. Their first date all Viggo would talk about was his son. Orlando guessed it was Viggo’s way of saying, ‘hey, I like you, I want to be with you, but I come as part of a package so if that’s not cool with you we’d better stop now’. It was cool with Orlando. He’d never met anyone like Viggo and even if that package had included a herd of African Llamas living in his bathroom, Orlando wouldn’t have cared. As it was Orlando and Henry had hit it off right from the beginning and had soon become friends, much to Viggo’s delight. Henry became as much a part of Orlando’s life as any other member of his family and he couldn’t imagine life without him now.

As if reading his mind, Henry was the one to break the silence. “Orlando? Now that… well, now that Dad is… gone… We’ll still be able to hang out, won’t we?”

Orlando turned so that he could look right at Henry. “Of course! Henry… I love you, man. You’re welcome in my home anytime and if you need me for anything, or just want to hang out, all you have to do is call. You’re my family.”

He wrapped his arms around Henry and hugged him close. Although he wouldn’t show it, Henry’s words had struck a chord. Orlando hadn’t thought about it before, but he realised that now, with Viggo dead, he had no real rights to be part of Henry’s life. He felt fear grip his heart at the thought and looked over Henry’s shoulder across the carpark to where Henry’s mother stood with Sean. He knew he shouldn’t be worried; he had always got on well with Exene. As Henry’s mother, Viggo had made sure she was often included in things they did, they had even all gone on holiday together a couple of times… but now Viggo wasn’t there to make sure that he stayed in contact with Henry.

“Thanks, Orlando,” Henry said when they drew apart. Orlando saw that he looked a little less strained and wondered how much the idea that they wouldn’t be able to spend time together had been weighing on Henry’s mind. “I guess I better get back to Mom.”

“Yeah, Sean’s waiting for me too.”

They walked back together across the carpark. When Evie saw them coming she ran up them and Orlando scooped her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way back to where Exene and Sean were waiting. It was late afternoon and Sean wanted to get Evie home for her dinner so they only had time to chat for a few minutes before Henry and Exene said their goodbyes.

Orlando watched Exene as she walked to her car with one arm around her son. He’d already made up his mind to call her the next day. He’d do anything necessary to make sure he could still see Henry.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Orlando looked at the packet in his hand. Poptarts. He hated poptarts. But… Viggo loved them. Had loved them, Orlando reminded himself. He sighed and reached out to put the packet back on the shelf, but changed his mind at the last minute and threw it into his trolley anyway.

Three months.

Three months and he was still shopping for Viggo, the poptarts would end up unopened in the back of the cupboard with five other identical boxes. Maybe Henry would like some next time he visited.

The corners of Orlando’s mouth lifted in a smile when he thought about Henry. He had called Exene the day after the funeral, expecting and prepared to fight for the right to spend time with Henry. But Exene had surprised him. She apologised to him, telling him she had meant to talk to him the day before, but there had been so many people at the funeral and it had taken such a toll on Henry she didn’t get a chance. Of course he could see Henry, whenever he wanted. Since then Henry had stayed one weekend a month at the house.

The first time Orlando saw Henry and Exene was when they came to the house to collect Viggo’s things two weeks after the funeral. Sean was there too. He’d been shopping and had just dropped by ‘for a cuppa’. Orlando knew he had come around for moral support, just to be there in case Orlando needed him, and he loved him for it. Orlando had been up the whole night the night before. He’d walked around the house, just touching Viggo’s things… his clothes, his artwork, his books and photos. Saying goodbye. So he’d played along with Sean and let him stay and together they had waited for Henry and Exene.

When they’d finally arrived Exene had asked if they could talk about something before Henry picked out what he wanted.

“It’s about the house,” she said.

Orlando had seen the sheaf of papers in her hand… they looked like legal documents and his heart sank. Viggo had owned half the house; Orlando had paid for his half with money he’d had in a trust fund. It had been all the money he’d had, but it had been worth using it to buy the house, to put it toward something as important as sharing his life with Viggo. Exene could force him to sell the house now, to put the proceeds of Viggo’s half into trust for Henry. And Orlando couldn’t afford to buy Viggo’s half himself.

Orlando had glanced at Sean who had come to the same conclusion as Orlando and was looking outraged. As the others sat in the lounge Orlando had gone to make some coffee and Sean had joined him.

“She can’t be serious,” Sean had whispered, slamming a cup down on the counter.

“Henry’s her son, Sean. She wants to protect him,” Orlando replied, taking the cup from Sean and placing it on a tray. “I can understand that.” Orlando’s voice sounded calm, even to himself… but his hand betrayed the emotions he was feeling when he lifted the kettle under the tap to fill it with water. He was shaking, and it did not go unnoticed by Sean.

“Listen, Orlando… I’ve got kids myself, I know where she’s coming from… but I also know you can’t afford to buy Viggo’s half, at least not yet… But I can. If she’s going to force you to sell, I’ll lend you the money. It can be done all legal like if you want and you can pay me back when you can.”

Orlando looked at Sean, blinking back tears threatening to form. It was a generous offer… too generous… and Orlando knew he should refuse. But he’d lost Viggo and he didn’t think he could bear to lose the house they’d shared as well.

“I… Sean…” Then he’d turned and busied himself with making the coffee before his tears had a chance to spill over.

Sean stared at Orlando’s back for a moment, could see him struggling with his emotions, and just when he thought he’d get no answer to his offer he heard a very soft ‘Thank you’. Then Orlando had taken a deep breath and turned around with the tray and together they walked back into the lounge.

Orlando knew Sean wouldn’t cause a scene, especially in front of Henry, but he shook his head slightly and gave the other man a meaningful look nonetheless when they’d taken their seats on the couch opposite Exene and Henry. But again, Exene had surprised him. She started by saying the documents were from her lawyer and she’d had them drawn up after the reading of Viggo’s Will at Henry’s request. She’d passed the papers to Orlando and his sense of dread was replaced with astonishment as he read them.

“Are you sure?” He whispered when he was done.

“Absolutely,” Exene replied.

Orlando passed the papers to Sean. In them was an agreement to sell Viggo’s half of the house to Orlando, but at the same price he’d paid for it, without interest, payable at a mutually agreeable date anytime in the future. There was even a clause saying that if Henry were to die before Orlando had bought him out, his share of the title would pass to Orlando. The document was signed by both Henry and, as executor of Viggo’s Will and Henry’s sole guardian, Exene.

Orlando turned to Henry. “And this was your idea?”

“Yeah,” Henry replied a little shyly. “Dad was real happy when you guys moved in here… I know he would want you to stay… and Mom agreed.”

Orlando smiled when he remembered the group hug that followed, including Sean who couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear. Orlando knew Viggo would never have been prouder of his son and Orlando was proud of him too. Proud that Viggo’s son was growing into a caring, compassionate young man who held so much of his father in his soul.

Henry had chosen just a few things to take away, leaving most of the items decorating the house. He also left Viggo’s photography equipment and had begun experimenting with it. When he stayed they would go to Viggo’s favourite places and Henry would take photos. Orlando would sit and watch and see glimpses of Viggo in his son and little by little he was finding some sort of peace in his heart.

Orlando paid for his groceries and walked out into the sunshine. Just as he reached his car he heard his cellphone go off in his pocket. He recognised the number immediately… Sean’s office. Even though it was Saturday it was not unusual for Sean to be working when he didn’t have his girls with him. Orlando was studying toward his PhD and worked as a tutor in Sean’s department and would sometimes find himself at the university on the weekends also.

“Hello?” he said, answering the call as he opened his car and sat behind the wheel.

“Orlando? Where are you?”

“Hi, Sean. I’m just leaving the supermarket.”

“Are you alone? Can you call by the department on your way home? I need to talk to you about something.”

There was something in Sean’s voice… some underlying excitement that made Orlando curious, and a little anxious.

“Sure. What’s up? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, just get here as quick as you can, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. See you soon.”

Orlando was still mulling over the possibilities as he pulled into the campus carpark. He hadn’t heard Sean sound so excited about something in months… well, not since before Viggo’s death so he knew it must be something big. And the fact that Sean had called him into the university meant it must be work related. Some previously undiscovered manuscripts perhaps? Some other sort of breakthrough in research…

He swiped his security card at the door and bounded up the stairs to Sean’s first floor office, walking in without knocking. “Hey.”

Sean had his back to the door standing at the window, looking out over the campus with a bound document in his hand. As he turned to face him, Orlando was surprised to see a glass of scotch in Sean’s other hand.

“Sean?” Orlando’s brow furrowed in a frown. It was not like Sean to drink in the middle of the day, unless there was football match on or some social gathering, and never hard liquor and never alone in his office. Orlando hadn’t even known Sean kept whiskey here.

“Hello, Orlando,” Sean’s voice was still calm, but with that underlying something Orlando had detected on the phone. He gestured to a chair, “Have a seat. Drink?”

“Umm… no thanks,” Orlando replied as he sat. “Sean… are you sure everything is okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Orlando,” Sean reassured him, taking his seat behind his desk. “Tell me something… why do you study history?”

Whatever Orlando had been expecting it wasn’t this. “What?”

“Just humour me for a moment… tell me, why do you do it?”

Orlando thought about it for second, watching Sean closely for some kind of clue as to where this was going. Sean was behaving so strangely… so out of character… Orlando was beginning to worry.

“Because I believe the past can guide us into the future. That the lessons we have learned can help us choose the right path now. Because I like a good mystery, enjoy sifting through the fact and fiction to get to the truth…”

Sean listened as he spoke, nodded and sipped at his drink. “You have a passion for it.” It wasn’t a question.

“As do you… Sean, what is this about? Why do I get the feeling you didn’t ask me here to talk about history?”

“Not history, Orlando… Science.”

“Science?”

Sean nodded again and set his glass down on the desk. He looked down at the document lying on the desk in front of him and ran his fingertips down the edge of the papers.

“What do you consider to be a historian’s greatest dream, Orlando?”

Orlando sat back in the high-backed chair and crossed his one ankle over his knee. He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and touched his chin with his fingers. He felt like he was sitting some sort of test… a test where the outcome was very important.

“To develop a theory no one has considered before,” he said finally.

“More than that…”

“To find an important, previously undiscovered document…”

“More than that.”

Orlando wracked his brains to find the answer he was looking for while Sean waited patiently. This was all so peculiar, this whole situation; the questions, the way Sean was behaving, the look in his eyes… Eventually Orlando was forced to admit defeat. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Sean…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Orlando answered automatically.

“Do you trust that anything I tell you will be the truth?” Sean asked as he stood and picked up an historical journal from his desk.

“Well, if you try and tell me that George the Third was perfectly sane and the victory at Trafalgar never happened I might beg to differ…”

Sean chuckled and walked around the desk. He deposited the journal in Orlando’s lap. “Nothing quite as outrageous as that, Orlando… and besides even I would hesitate to argue with your knowledge of that period. Remember that?” He asked pointing at the journal Orlando now held in his hand.

Orlando looked down at the magazine. It was dated a few years before, and although he was sure he would have read it, Orlando couldn’t recall anything in particular that would make it special. He looked back at Sean and shook his head.

Sean perched on the edge of his desk, one hand in his pocket. “Page 7.”

Orlando flicked the journal open and scanned the page. There were two articles there. One about a treatise on 1800s New York City, the other was titled ‘The Time Machine’. Still confused, Orlando skimmed through the New York article first. Keeping in mind what Sean had told him he started on the other article.

_Not history, Orlando… Science._

_A historian’s greatest dream._

_More than that._

Orlando’s breath caught in his throat. The article he was looking at reported that scientists were experimenting with finding ways to travel through time… but Orlando had heard rumours of this before… they had been trying for years, decades… and nothing had ever come of it. No one thought it ever would.

“To be there…” he whispered and Sean’s green eyes were bright when Orlando lifted his head to meet Sean’s gaze.

“They’ve done it.”

“No fucking way,” Orlando was stunned. His words were little more than a gasp as he took in what Sean was telling him. His face was a picture of astonishment.

“Yeah, those mad bastards finally did something useful,” he grinned.

Sean allowed Orlando a moment to process all the possibilities resulting from what he’d been told. They sat in silence in his office, shelves upon shelves of books lining the walls, the sunlight streaming in through the high windows, listening to the muffled sound of the outside world.

“I think I’ll have that drink now,” Orlando finally said quietly.

Sean got up and walked over to the small shelf along one wall where he had some cups, tea and coffee and an electric jug. Although Orlando didn’t know it, Sean had had a lot more time to digest the news… and prepare for what was to follow… He grabbed a glass and poured Orlando his drink, then went back to sit on the edge of the desk.

Orlando took a large swig of the whiskey. His heart was hammering. He simply couldn’t believe it. Not possible, the rational part of his mind screamed. But, the other option was to believe that Sean had lost the plot… had allowed himself to become deluded for some reason… and Orlando knew Sean better than that. Ever since he’d known him, Orlando knew Sean to question everything, to analyse and dissect everything he heard or read until he was satisfied with the outcome. Sean wouldn’t be telling him this unless he knew it to be true. And yet, to live to see this… to be alive in an era where time travel was possible… and everything that meant… Orlando’s mind raced with all the opportunities this presented to the world.

“Bloody hell… it’s just… I can’t believe it…”

“Believe it, Orlando. It’s happening.”

“How… What are they going to do?”

Sean shifted his position on the desk and turned to pick up the document he’d been looking at before. “Well, first they just want to observe… who knows what it may be used for in the future…”

“So they’re really going to send someone back in time?” Orlando watched Sean nod. “Bloody hell… it’s just…” To be able to go back and find out if Marco Polo really went to China… who really was the man in the iron mask… He finished off his drink and set the glass down on the floor beside the chair… To be a fly on the wall in some other time, some other world almost… _an historian’s dream…_

Orlando suddenly leapt up from the chair. “Holy Jesus! It’s you! They’re sending you!”

Sean grinned when Orlando flung his arms around him. He hugged the younger man tightly, could feel the excitement running through him like an electric current. When Orlando let Sean go he paced about the room, almost bouncing off the walls with exhilaration. He eventually stopped in front of Sean and faced him.

“How long have you known about this?”

“For a while… I hope you understand the reasons why I couldn’t say anything before… I wasn’t sure of what the outcome would be when they first approached me. Then they had to run all kinds of checks… make sure I wasn’t a nutter, that sort of thing. Then… when Viggo died, it didn’t seem right to tell you. You had too much to deal with…”

“Oh, Sean… Viggo would be so proud of you, and happy for you to have this opportunity… like I am,” Orlando said and hugged Sean again. “So what exactly do you have to do?” he asked when they parted.

Sean handed him the document he'd been holding before. Orlando glanced at it briefly, the logo on the cover was for some sort of government department and stamped _‘Highly confidential: Authorised Personnel Only’_. He leafed through the document, skimming through the pages, seeing diagrams and explanations of the technology they’d developed…

“Well, we have to get samples… soil, water, even air… They can monitor the environment from here and our vitals so if we get into any trouble they can pull us out if they need to, but that will be a last resort. And when we come back it will be to right now, to whenever we left.”

Orlando nodded enthusiastically and continued flicking through the pages as Sean talked. Then he suddenly stopped. He closed the document and looked at the front page again. The words jumped out at him. _Authorised Personnel Only._ He slowly lifted his gaze and met Sean’s eyes.

“We?”

Sean met his gaze squarely. “I’m going back in time, Orlando,” he said evenly.

“And I want you to come with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Orlando closed the front door of his house firmly, shutting out the outside world, and leaned against it with an exhausted sigh. It wasn’t even 7.30pm yet, and he had another long night of reading ahead of him, but Orlando wondered if he’d be able to stay awake for even another hour.

The last two months had been a whirlwind: a blur of psychological tests, intense research, fittings for period clothing, dialect coaching… Ever since Sean had offered him this chance, a chance that Orlando could not pass up, Orlando felt as if his life had been ripped away, claimed by the people in charge of this project - or the Mad Scientists as Sean called them. Both Sean and Orlando had taken sabbatical leave from the university to have time to prepare and it seemed as if every second since then had been consumed with work. When he wasn’t actually doing it, he was thinking about it.

He pushed himself away from the door and wearily made his way into the kitchen. He set his bag down on the counter and removed the TV dinner he’d bought on the way home. Tasteless and unappetizing, but he couldn’t face cooking tonight. He took the dinner out of its packaging and, as it warmed in the microwave, Orlando checked his phone messages. One from Sean, wanting to know if he’d come for dinner with the girls tomorrow night and asking him to bring a periodical volume into campus the next day. The next was Henry, asking if they were still going out to the movies on Saturday. Orlando’s shoulders slumped a little at hearing Henry’s voice. He’d had to cancel their last weekend together. As the time approached when he and Sean would make their first ‘trip’ Orlando had had less and less time to spend with Henry and he couldn’t explain why to Henry. The most he’d been permitted to say was that he was working on an important project. Not much of an explanation to a sixteen year old who had lost his father less than six months earlier. The last two messages on the machine were from other friends just calling to ask how he was as it had been a while since he’d been in touch.

Orlando put his canvas shopping bag away as he dialled Henry’s number. The canvas bags were another reminder of Viggo. One day he’d opened the drawer that had held all the plastic shopping bags they’d collected and found it overflowing. Orlando had watched Viggo’s face as he’d stared at the open drawer for a few moments. He hadn’t said anything at the time, but the next day when he’d returned home from work Orlando had found several canvas bags folded on the counter, and they’d used them ever since. It was a habit Orlando continued after Viggo had gone.

Henry was out with friends when he called, so Orlando left a message with Exene that he’d be around to pick him up an hour before the movie started on Saturday. They chatted for a few minutes while Orlando poured himself a glass of juice and when they hung up Orlando sat at the table with his dinner and returned his other calls, leaving Sean to last. He cleared away his dishes and dialled Sean’s number.

“Hey, it’s me,” he said when Sean answered.

“Oh, hi, Orli. Did you get my message then?”

“Yeah. I’ll bring the book in tomorrow and I’d love to have dinner with you and the girls if you’re sure I won’t be in the way?” Their first slide, as Orlando thought of it, was scheduled for less than a week away and Orlando knew this was Sean’s last chance to spend some time with his girls before then.

“Of course not, ya daft bugger. Although I’ll have to check with Lorna first, just in case,” Sean teased. Lorna, his eldest, had a pretty obvious crush on Orlando, causing her to blush furiously even at the mere mention of his name.

“You do that, then let me know,” Orlando laughed. He opened a bottle of wine, grabbed a glass and carried them both into the living room. He didn’t bother with flicking on the light just yet. The moonlight was streaming in through the windows, enough for him to see what he wanted to see for the time being. There was a short pause on the other end before Sean spoke again.

“Are you ready for this, Orlando?”

Orlando sat cross-legged in front of the painting propped up against the coffee table and set the bottle and glass down on the floor beside him.

“Yes,” he answered after a moment’s reflection. “At least I think so.” He’d hardly had time to think about it with everything that he’d been through in the last few months, but as the time drew near Orlando was forced to admit that a little fear was creeping into his thoughts. Fear of the unknown, of exactly what would happen during the process… would they make it to the other side and, once there, would they be able to get back? He knew his fears were groundless: the technology had been tested and re-tested well before they’d even heard about it, on animals at first and then the head developer of the technology himself has volunteered to test it. Orlando had confessed his concerns to the team of psychologists nonetheless and had been reassured it was perfectly normal for him to feel this way and that they would be worried if he didn’t.

Orlando suspected Sean would pick up on how he was feeling, even though he tried to hide it from the older man. He didn’t want Sean to have any doubts about Orlando being part of this experiment. What Orlando didn’t know what that Sean had fought for Orlando to be part of this. The psychologists on the team had recommended someone else to assist him saying that Orlando was still grieving for his partner, that it would cloud his judgement. Sean had insisted though and had argued against them to the point where he thought he’d have to threaten to pull out himself. And then they had come around, with the condition that at the first sign of trouble Orlando would be pulled from the project. He’s passed every test you’ve thrown at him, Sean reminded them, and he had complete faith in the younger man.

“You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. You know that don’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, I know,” Orlando responded softly, pouring himself a glass of the wine.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just… tired I guess. And I still have a pile of stuff to get through tonight,” Orlando paused to take a sip of the wine, before continuing. “I’m sorry, Sean. I don’t mean to whinge.”

“It’s okay, Orlando. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you take the night off tonight? Get some rest. Tomorrow you can come by early for dinner and we’ll go through what we need to together. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

“Right then. I’ll see you around 4ish?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Sean.”

After they said their goodbyes Orlando turned the ringer off on the phone and returned his attention back to the painting in front of him. It was one that had sat in Viggo’s studio for months before he died. Viggo kept insisting it wasn’t finished, that it needed… something. He couldn’t say what that something was, only that he’d know it when he saw it. To Orlando the painting looked finished, every inch of the canvas covered in subtle blues and maroons, with a few words of a poem Viggo had been working on at the same time. Orlando had brought the painting out a week ago, intending to hang it in the living room. He hadn’t quite got round to it yet. Then a few days ago he and Sean had a meeting with one of the scientists working on the project. He’d tried to explain to them both the principles that had formed the foundation for time travel using a pad to write down examples of the mathematical formulae and when they’d had a break Orlando had used the paper to doodle on. He didn’t know why, but something made him think of this painting, and he’d torn a corner from the page. It didn’t contain anything of any importance, well, nothing that meant much to Orlando anyway, just some mathematical symbols, and he’d brought it back home and stuck it on the painting with a thin coating of colour over top of it. He hadn’t had time to visit Viggo’s grave for two months, and somehow doing this had made Orlando feel closer to him.

The moonlight coming in through the windows settled on the painting, casting enough of a glow for Orlando to see the symbols through the colour and the words of Viggo’s poem. Orlando touched the bit of paper with the tips of his fingers, then closed his eyes as his hand traced a path over the surface of the painting.

“I miss you,” he whispered to the silent room.

*****

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” Henry asked again from across the booth in the café, reaching for another French fry.

“Positive. I just went for a check up and they took some blood, that’s all. Perfectly routine.” Orlando responded, wishing Henry would drop it. After the movie had ended they had played a few rounds of air hockey. Orlando had removed his jumper, not realising until he saw Henry’s concerned look, that the small bandage covering his arm was visible through his t-shirt. He had quickly formed an excuse of visiting the doctor the day before. He couldn’t tell Henry the real reason for the bandage, that it covered the small wound where a tiny microchip had been implanted under his skin. A microchip that was now sending information on all his bodily functions to some unknown guy sitting in front of a monitor.

Orlando decided to change the subject. “So, how’s school going? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Henry responded, a little vaguely. Orlando raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Well… our end of year formal is coming up soon…”

“Ahhh.”

“What?”

“And you haven’t decided who to take yet?”

“No, that’s not the problem…”

“So you do know?” Orlando couldn’t hold back his smile when Henry blushed and nodded. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Her name’s Jessica. She’s a year younger than me. We’ve been… hanging out together a lot lately…”

“And she knows you like her?” Henry nodded. “But you don’t know how to ask her to the dance?”

“No, I’ve asked her already and she said yes…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Orlando asked, claiming some fries for himself.

The blush on Henry’s face continued to deepen and he fumbled with his napkin before answering. “Well, it’s just… you know… things happen at these things,” He cleared his throat before continuing, “At least, things are _supposed_ to happen.”

Orlando stopped chewing and sat bolt upright before leaning against the back of the booth for support, a million thoughts flying through his mind. _But you’re only sixteen! You can’t be having sex yet! What would Viggo say?? Should I tell Exene? Do we need to lock you up until you’re thirty??? Okay, just calm down, Bloom, and deal with this. He needs you. You can do it. And just how do you plan to talk a teenager out of having sex, then? Shut up. Say something!_

“I see.”

“Yeah, but I just…”

“Don’t know if you’re ready?” Orlando finished hopefully.

“Yeah.”

_Thankyouthankyouthankyou!_

“Then I still don’t see what the problem is, Henry. You don’t have to do anything you know? And if you’re not comfortable with it, my advice is not to for both your sake and Jessica’s.”

“But what if she thinks I don’t like her? What if she tells everyone?”

“She won’t, trust me. And if you tell her how you feel she won’t think you don’t like her, will she? Believe me, she’ll like it a lot more if you just talk to her.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Orlando suspiciously. “And just how many girls have you been with, Orlando?”

“Well, none,” Orlando admitted, quickly discounting the few fumbling attempts at a heterosexual relationship during his teens. “But I do know what it’s like to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to do. Listen, Henry, I’m not going to tell you what you ought to do. I think you’re mature enough to do the right thing and not just follow what everyone else might be doing. But if you really like this girl, I know that you’ll respect her and not sleep with her simply to look good in front of your mates.”

Henry dropped his gaze to watch as his fingers shredded the napkin he’d been playing with as he considered what Orlando said. With his Dad gone, he needed someone close he could talk to about this stuff. He knew Orlando had been busy lately and was glad that he still took the time to spend with him. He was grateful that he still had Orlando to turn to when he needed him.

“Thanks, Orlando,” he said finally, lifting his head.

“No problem, mate,” Orlando smiled back at him. He hoped what he had said made some sense to Henry… and he knew that if Henry was thinking about becoming sexually active he’d have to tell Exene and pray she wouldn’t let on that he’d broken a confidence, or if she did, that Henry would forgive him. They sat in silence for a few moments, finishing up their meal and watching the other people in the café.

“Orlando?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you’ll start dating again soon?”

Orlando’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He knew this was something he and Henry would have to talk about sooner or later, but the truth was Orlando wasn’t remotely interested in dating yet, and he’d hoped to put this off until something happened that would make it necessary. He knew, or rather hoped, that eventually he’d meet someone he’d like to date, and maybe have a relationship with, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, but he wasn’t even thinking about looking right now, and it wasn’t as if he had the time to with everything else going on in his life.

“I will eventually, I guess. But not just yet,” he replied truthfully.

“Will you tell me when you do?”

“You’ll be the first to know, I promise.”

“And can I come over and give them the third degree?”

“If you like,” Orlando laughed. “As long as I get to meet Jessica,” he said with a wink as they left the booth and made their way over to the counter to pay.

Orlando smiled on the drive back to drop Henry off as Henry told him all about his girlfriend and laughed when Henry made him promise not to tell any embarrassing stories about him when he did meet her. He felt sure that Henry wouldn’t do anything stupid or rush into anything, but all the same Orlando made a mental note to call Exene the next day. He wouldn’t go into specifics about what he and Henry had talked about, rather he’d let her know in general terms.

“So when do you want to meet her?” Henry asked when they pulled up outside the house he shared with Exene.

“Whenever you like, Henry… but I’m going away for a few days for this project I’m working on, so it can’t be in the next week or so. Maybe after that when you come to stay? We could all go out somewhere then.”

“Sure. Coldplay are doing a concert so maybe we could go to that?” Henry asked, looking hopeful.

“Coldplay are touring?”

“Yeah, man! Didn’t you know? Geeze, where have you been?”

“I’ve just been too busy I guess… but, yeah, that sounds great. I’ll get some tickets organised.”

“Awesome! You’re the best, Orlando!” Henry grinned.

Orlando grinned back and pulled Henry in for a hug. “I’ll need the number for Jessica’s parents first of course,” he said when they pulled away and Henry got ready to go inside.

“What? Why?”

“Henry…”

“Okay, okay! I’ll give it to you when you get back, but you won’t forget to get the tickets before you go, will you?”

“No, I won’t forget. Now, have a good time and I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. See you, Orli!” Orlando waited in the car until Henry turned the locked and waved at him before going inside.

Later that night as he lay in bed, Orlando thought about what he and Henry had discussed… about when he should start dating again. He wondered if it was normal to feel still so uninterested in seeing other people, or even sex, six months down the track. It wasn’t something he would discuss with the psychologists working on the project, and they hadn’t brought it up.

When Viggo had died Orlando hadn’t felt any sexual urges at all for a long time, it was as if that part of his life had gone with his lover. Then slowly they had started to return, and at first Orlando had tried to ignore his body’s needs. Pleasuring himself involved some sort of fantasy, and that meant thinking of Viggo, remembering the way Viggo’s hands and mouth had felt on his body… it had been too painful to think about in the beginning. Even now sometimes the thought was too much to bear and Orlando had lost count of the number of cold showers he’d taken. And when he did give in and find some relief, it was always Viggo’s name he called out when he came.

Orlando rolled onto his side and sighed as the old familiar ache in his heart intensified and a wave of loneliness washed over him. He willed his mind to think of something else.

As usual his thoughts turned to work. Two days. In two days he and Sean would be walking the Earth in another time. Tomorrow they had a final appointment with the dressmakers, then they’d be forced to wear their period clothes throughout the day while at the centre where the experiment was taking place. Every time he put those clothes on, Orlando had to fight the urge to run his finger around the high, starchy collar of his shirt and rip it away. He wondered how people actually managed to wear them day in and day out. It didn’t help that the air conditioning in the centre was set at a comfortable level for people wearing normal clothes, but add three layers to that and it felt stifling. At the end of each day both Orlando and Sean were relieved to get back into their day clothes and relax.

Despite all the preparation, they had been told that this was a kind of ‘practise run’. They’d go back for three days, and rather than return to the time they left, they’d be gone for the same amount of time. In previous tests the subjects had only been sent back for a few hours and they’d hadn’t had the microchips monitoring them. The only way for that to work was if they were monitored in real time. It all got confusing to Orlando; all he needed to know was that when they came back three days will have passed here also. They were still required to get samples for the scientists of course… water, soil, food, but other than that they had no specific agenda this time. They didn’t need any added pressure to this first slide, and it was to be used more as a way to get them used to the physical and mental effects of time travel than anything else.

They would be given plenty of currency though, and Orlando and Sean had already thought about ways to spend it. Plays they wanted to see, places they wanted to go… Orlando wondered if three days would be long enough for them to do everything. Their cases had been made with false bottoms and secret locked compartments to house the technology they needed to communicate with the people back here, including tiny handheld computers with ‘panic buttons’ in case things got really hairy, which could be easily concealed in an inside pocket and carried at all times. They had a vibrating function to alert Sean and Orlando in case someone from this side needed to contact them urgently. It seemed as if every contingency had been covered.

Orlando smiled when he thought of Sean. They had become even closer over the weeks and months it had taken to get to this point, and despite the nervousness he still felt about the unknown, Orlando knew he could trust Sean implicitly, and was fairly certain Sean felt the same way about him. Tomorrow, when they’d finished with everything they had to do, Sean would invite Orlando to join him at the pub for a pint and a meal. They’d watch some football maybe, or Orlando would sit amused while Sean charmed the waitress or any other number of unsuspecting women hovering around him. Whereas Orlando always felt awkward or shy, Sean had an effortless way of putting people at ease, especially women. They were drawn in by his golden good looks and then hooked by his gentle humour and easy-going nature. Orlando had seen it happen time and again, but he’d yet to see Sean leave with any one of them. When he questioned him about this Sean had just laughed and said he’d outgrown the need to sow his wild oats. When Orlando had suggested that he could at least take one of them out for dinner, Sean had simply shrugged and said that after three failed marriages he’d learned to be a little more cautious when it came to affairs of the heart. It made Orlando a little sad that his friend still had to find the one he was meant to be with… still, he enjoyed the time they spent together away from work. Sometimes they would talk about Viggo, but more often than not they would simply enjoy each other’s company.

Orlando was still smiling when he drifted off to sleep, and one final thought passed through his mind…

_Two days._


	3. Chapter 3

“Orlando? Fuck… Orli!”

Sean looked down at Orlando lying unconscious on his back in the grass. As he dropped to his knees beside Orlando’s body he could feel the small computer in his inside jacket pocket begin to vibrate insistently. Not taking his eyes off Orlando’s face, he threw his hat on the ground and fumbled with the buttons on his jacket, reaching inside to pull the device out of it’s hiding place.

“Orlando? C’mon…” Sean said as he gently patted Orlando’s cheek. He could see Orlando’s chest rise and fall so he knew at least that Orlando was still breathing. Now if he could just get him to open his eyes and say something.

Sean glanced around briefly to make sure there were no witnesses to what had just transpired, then looked at the small screen of the computer.

_‘Status Subject Two: Unconscious  
Erratic heartbeats both subjects’_

Sean scrolled down the screen and saw:

_‘Sean, please advise.  
Abort imminent.’_

Sean forced himself to take a deep breath to calm his heart, then typed one word back, before returning his full attention to reviving Orlando.

_‘Wait’_

“C’mon, Orlando… open your eyes… please,” he pleaded as he undid the button on Orlando’s shirt and loosened his tie.

He couldn’t think of anything that would cause this reaction from the younger man. It had all gone according to plan, until he’d looked around and seen Orlando lying on the ground. They had been standing side by side in the transport room at the centre, grinning at each other as the final checks were made and the countdown began.

They had been given the coordinates of where they would be when they arrived in this time. The area had been scanned to make sure no other people were around to die of fright when two men miraculously appeared out of nowhere, or to ask awkward questions if they managed to survive the shock, and Orlando and Sean had been given directions to a train station not too far off where they would catch a train to London.

London, August 1905.

The journey itself had been just as they had said it would. At least to Sean. He didn’t know exactly how to describe the sensation, other than it was like being caught in a lift that was crashing to the ground. The walls of the room they were in seemed to close in, and then shimmer before Sean felt a sharp lurch as if the floor had fallen through. Then came the voices. They’d been prepared for them. Snatches of unknown conversations of unknown people…

The next conscious thought Sean had was of here, of standing in this field next to Orlando’s prone body.

He felt his heart leap when he saw Orlando’s eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones.

“That’s it, Orlando. C’mon, we’ve got a train to catch, mate, and I ain’t taking it without you.”

*****

‘Orlando… train… without you…’

Orlando could vaguely make out Sean’s voice through the fog in his head. It was like trying to listen to someone speaking on the surface while you were underwater. And Orlando didn’t want to go to the surface, he didn’t want to take any trains, he wanted to stay right where he was.

No, that wasn’t quite right. He wanted to go back, back into the tunnel or… whatever it was. Where he had heard the softly spoken words floating toward him.

‘Beautiful, the way the light moves over your body…’

_Viggo?_

*****

Sean was growing more and more concerned and frustrated as the seconds ticked away. Apart from that first flicker there had been no sign of Orlando coming around and the computer lying on the grass beside them had begun to move again. Sean snatched it up and hastily typed a message without bothering to read what they’d sent him.

_‘Attempting to revive. Wait’_

Sean looked up to where he’d seen a small dip in the landscape. Please let that be a stream, he thought. With one last worried glance at Orlando, Sean removed his jacket and ran over to the ditch. It was a lot further away than he thought, but when he finally approached it he saw there was indeed a stream at the bottom of the ditch, it was no more than a trickle, but enough for him to climb down the embankment and fill his cupped hands with the cool water. He knew that by the time he got back there wouldn’t be much water left, but hopefully the coolness and moisture would be enough to revive Orlando. When he was about halfway back he raised his eyes from his cupped hands to where he had left Orlando… and stopped in his tracks.

Orlando sat with his legs bent, his elbows on his knees with his head hanging in between them.

Sean let what was left of the water fall through his fingers and ran to Orlando. Crouching in front of him, Sean lifted Orlando’s head with one hand and looked into his eyes. He was relieved when Orlando met his gaze and his eyes seemed clear and lucid.

“Orlando? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Orlando responded, running one hand up over his face, wiping away the moisture left by Sean’s hand.

“What the hell happened? You gave me a helluva fright.”

“I’m sorry, Sean. I guess… I think I just flipped out for a minute. Sorry.” Orlando responded slowly, not willing to reveal to Sean what had happened to him during the slide. He didn’t know why as he knew Sean wouldn’t laugh at him or think he was crazy. Hearing Viggo’s voice was simply something that Orlando wanted to keep for himself for now.

Sean gave Orlando another long look before nodding. “Okay. You okay to walk?” he asked, looking around for his small computer.

“Yeah, I think so. You looking for this?” Orlando asked, holding up the device. “I told them everything was okay while you were off sightseeing.”

“Cheeky bastard,” Sean replied. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but didn’t care. He was too relieved that Orlando seemed to be none the worse for wear, although he made a mental note to keep a close eye on him. “Next time ya want t' faint like a girl, don’t look t' me for help, yeah?”

“What? And deprive you of the chance to be my knight in shining armour?” Orlando replied with a wink as Sean checked there were no more messages on the computer and tucked it back into his jacket pocket before he got to his feet. He took Sean’s offered hand and went to stand up, then fell on his backside when Sean suddenly let go.

“Sorry,” Sean laughed.

Orlando couldn’t help but laugh as well as he slowly got to his feet. His initial light-headedness had gone now to be replaced by a kind of wonder. They’d done it. They were standing in a field in another time, another place. He turned and looked at Sean, and saw the same expression on his face.

“We did it. It worked,” Sean’s voice was soft when he spoke.

“Yeah.”

“It bloody fucking worked...”

“Yeah,” Orlando grinned.

The two men looked at each other for a long moment before hugging, laughing as they did so.

Everything around them seemed cleaner, fresher, to Orlando. 100 years of industry and chemical pollution taken away in an instant. He wondered if it would be like this in the city as well. Would everything there seem just as clear, just as bright? Orlando’s eyes widened when he looked over Sean’s shoulder and scanned the field behind him.

“Ummm… Sean, I think we should get moving…” he said, backing away and reaching around for his case and hat.

“Yeah, yeah… let me just get out the map so we can get our bearings.”

“No, I think we should go. Right now.”

“In a hurry to get to town, huh?” Sean asked, smiling as he put his jacket back on.

“Kind of,” Orlando replied, handing Sean his case. “See that cow over there?”

Sean looked in the direction Orlando nodded in and saw a cow standing some distance away on the crest of a hill, apparently watching them with idle curiosity.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I think her friend wants to welcome us back to the twentieth century…” Orlando said gesturing directly behind Sean.

Sean turned and saw the biggest, maddest bull he’d ever seen speeding toward them at an alarming rate.

“Christ!”

By the time Sean turned back around Orlando has already started running toward the nearest wall boundary, and Sean was quick to follow suit. Breathless and laughing they hurled themselves over the wall in time to avoid disaster. As the frustrated bull snorted and ran up and down the length of the wall the two men brushed themselves down and checked their clothing, ‘You’ve got grass stains on your arse,”, “Fuck.”; and made sure they didn’t lose anything while they were running, “If we’ve dropped anything, I’ll flip you to see who goes back.”, “Fuck that, your arse has more padding than mine.” Finally they were satisfied everything was in order and after looking at the map agreed on the direction to the train station.

An hour later Orlando and Sean stood on the platform at the station waiting to board the train to London. They were both dressed in the fashion of upper class gentlemen, with dark suits complete with waistcoats and pocket watches, white shirts and high collars with silk ties. They exchanged anxious looks when their cases were taken by the conductor and stowed away for them as they boarded the packed train, but to refuse to hand them over may have attracted unwanted attention. Moving through the compartment, they eventually found two seats together opposite two sombrely dressed middle-aged women. As he tried to manoeuvre himself into the window seat, the whistle blew and the train lurched forward, making Orlando trip over the long skirts of the women causing them to exclaim and tsk loudly. Muttering apologies he finally found his seat and Sean took the seat next to him.

“Forgive my clumsy companion,” Sean said to the women, tipping his hat to them as they nodded at him in a tight-lipped greeting. He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “He’s recently returned from India.”

“Ahhhh!” both women exclaimed, and nodded as if to say that explained everything.

“And what brings two such lovely ladies to town today, if I may be so bold as to enquire? Ahhh! You must be on your way to be presented. No, no! I’m convinced. There can be no other acceptable explanation.”

Orlando tried to hide his smile as he looked out to watch the scenery and listened as the women tittered and tried to appear shocked as Sean charmed them. He knew Sean would have them both eating out of his hand before they arrived in London.

*****

It was a little after three in the afternoon when they arrived at Euston Station. Orlando retrieved their cases while Sean said his goodbyes to the two ladies and escorted them to their waiting relatives.

Orlando took the opportunity to watch the people milling around. Even in their present time Euston was a busy station, but in 1905, with rail being such an important form of travel, the station was crowded. Groups of people stood waiting to leave or to meet people coming in, some obviously wealthier than others. Orlando’s attention was drawn to a family standing with several suitcases piled around them. It was obvious the family was well to do, probably off to their country home, maybe to prepare for a ‘Saturday to Monday’ hunting party or something similar. The two adults were fashionably dressed, the man in a suit very similar to Orlando and Sean’s, complete with a rounded hat and what Orlando assumed to be an ivory tipped walking stick. The woman was dressed in a light green dress and black overcoat fastened with an elaborate gold filigree dragonfly brooch. Her outfit was topped off with a large hat decorated with a peacock feather. The two children with them were well dressed and stood by quietly as the adults talked. In contrast Orlando saw another small child huddled in a corner. His worn clothes were ill fitting, obviously obtained from a charity box, and his feet were bare. He sat on the cold floor, his arms folded over his chest, largely ignored by passersby. As Orlando watched a man dressed in a rail workers uniform strode over to the young boy and grabbed him by the arm roughly, all but dragging him out to the street. The sight of a child being handled with such little care outraged Orlando – he couldn’t have been more than seven years old – but there was little he could do about it. He had to remind himself that they were here just to observe, not to interfere.

“I see you’ve made your first conquests,” Orlando remarked dryly when Sean joined him.

“Not only that, but an invitation to a society garden party tomorrow afternoon,” Sean beamed. The chance to not only observe but also interact with people in a social setting was not one they had been expecting. Even Orlando had to admit he was impressed.

“Not bad considering your only friend is a clumsy idiot just returned from India.”

“That was a nice touch, don’t you think?” Sean winked as they made their way out of the station and looked for a cab. “Off to the Savoy then?” he asked as a horse drawn carriage drew up beside them.

Orlando told the driver where to take them and climbed into the carriage behind Sean.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Orlando asked once the carriage started its bumpy ride.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but after we check in and unpack I’ll be about ready for a drink and maybe a walk before dinner to have a look around.”

“Sounds good.”

Orlando was feeling a little tired after their walk to the train and knew they had a big day the next day. They’d already planned to go to the theatre, Peter Pan was in its opening season and they didn’t want to pass up the chance to see the initial audiences’ reaction to it, and now they had the garden party in the afternoon as well.

They passed the rest of the short ride to the Strand in silence, each lost in his own thoughts as they watched the people on the streets.

Orlando resisted the urge to thank the cab driver when they arrived at their destination, and the liveried doorman who held open the door leading to the marble floored lobby the hotel. He and Sean gave their cards to concierge and Sean requested a two-bedroomed suite overlooking the river. The fine tailoring of their clothes and expensive looking cases ensured they were given a room immediately. Sean asked the man to arrange cabs for them and tickets to the theatre the following day and for tea to be sent to his room. Orlando looked around a little in awe. The Savoy had not gained its reputation for nothing. The opulence of the hotel was unequalled.

When everything was in order they followed the porters upstairs to their suite. The door to the hallway opened on to a high-ceilinged sitting room containing a large couch with rolled arms and curled wooden feet with a small table at each end and two matching armchairs. The other furniture consisted of a mahogany sideboard with a crystal decanter filled with water and six crystal glasses beside a vase of freshly cut flowers. There was a fireplace along one wall, on the mantle stood a clock and a candle in a silver holder on either side. The walls were covered in tasteful light floral patterned wallpaper, each decorated with original artwork. Set in front of one of the tall windows was a writing desk and chair.

Leading on from the sitting room were the bedrooms, each dominated by a huge bed with a small table beside it. Opposite that, beside one of the windows was a small mahogany reading table and two large cushion covered armchairs with a footrest. Orlando noticed there was a silver candle holder on the table, but most of the lighting was powered by electricity – a luxury. The high windows were covered by dark, patterned curtains, pulled back to let the sun stream in. Along one wall was a large armoire, complete with a long mirror on the door and another mahogany desk and chair. Next to that a door led to a small tiled bathroom, complete with another luxury – an actual bath with running hot and cold water.

Orlando hung the few clothes he had up in the armoire and checked his case for the various hidden containers, cash and electronics. Once he was satisfied everything was where it should be, he stuffed some of the cash into his pocket and grabbed his coat before joining Sean in the sitting room where the tea had already arrived and been poured.

“So what happened back there?” he asked, handing Orlando his cup.

“I’m not really sure,” Orlando answered after a moment’s hesitation. “I knew what to expect, but it was all just so… strange. Did you hear those voices?”

“Yeah. It were odd, alright. You don’t remember anything that would make you pass out? They were going to pull the plug. If it happens going back…”

Sean didn’t need to finish the sentence. Orlando knew that if it happened again he’d be pulled from the project. They couldn’t have someone on this who passed out every time they took a trip. But he also knew it was simply the shock of hearing Viggo that had affected him so deeply. Hearing that voice he knew and loved so well after not hearing it for so long. If it happened again he’d be prepared next time.

“It won’t happen again,” he assured Sean.

“And you’ve not got any after effects? No wooziness?”

“No, I’m fine. Anyway, if I did… I’m sure they’d pick it up.”

“True.”

“So what do you want to do now?” Orlando asked, draining the rest of his tea and setting the cup on the tray on the sideboard.

“We have about an hour before the first sitting for dinner. I’m going to take a walk around, see what I can see, and I’ll meet you back here.”

“Well, the Piazza is so close. I thought I might…” Orlando’s voice trailed off when he saw Sean shake his head. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Orlando, but you’re not going anywhere right now. No arguments,” Sean’s voice was stern when he saw Orlando about to protest. “You were unconscious for several minutes, Orlando, and I know you say you’re okay, but I’m not going to take any chances. There’s no ambulances, no paramedics here if you should pass out on the street, you know? It’s only an hour and I want you to rest.”

What Sean was saying did make sense. Even so Orlando couldn’t help feeling a little cheated. They were in 1905 for Christ’s sake! And only had three days. Orlando didn’t want to waste a single minute of that time. But one look at Sean’s face told him that his mind was made up and it was useless to argue.

“Fine.”

“Good,” Sean said, grabbing his coat and hat. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Orlando watched as Sean shut the door behind him.

“Fuck,” he said to no one in particular.

*****

Sean looked at his pocket watch and decided it was time to make his way back to the hotel. He’d walked along the theatre district and through the Piazza, taking in the sights and wishing he had more time to stop and talk to the people or linger a little longer watching the street performers. He decided to make one last pass through the Piazza on his way back, using a narrow alleyway as a shortcut. It was barely 5.30pm, but the air was started to chill. When he put his watch back in his pocket he did up the buttons on his coat as he walked, not looking where he was going ran straight into a young woman heading in the other direction along the alley.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he bent to help the woman collect the items that had fallen from the bundle she’d been carrying.

It took a second for Sean to realise he was picking up food from the street. Turning over the item in his hand he saw it was a small cake, and obviously several days old. He looked up when it was snatched from his hand and his eyes met a pair of piercing blue ones before the woman continued searching for the rest of the food.

Sean judged her to be in her late twenties, but it was hard to tell. Her hair could have been strawberry blonde, but he couldn’t be sure, as it was obviously not washed for some time. Despite her grubby appearance, her high cheekbones and dainty features combined with those beautiful eyes he’d had a glimpse of spoke of a great beauty. Her clothes revealed more about her station in life. Threadbare, outdated, at least a size too big and totally unsuited for the chilly temperature, Sean could tell they were hand-me-downs or charity items.

He looked down as the woman placed the cakes on a cloth and fumbled with tying the ends together. Her hands were red, whether it was due to the cold, or from manual work Sean could not tell. The cobbled ground underneath the cloth seemed filthy to Sean and his heart went out to her. She obviously intended to eat the food, even stale and now covered in god knows what.

“Allow me,” he said softly and gently placed his hands over her fumbling fingers. Her hands were very cold and he held them in his for a moment to try and warm them a little. When he looked back up he saw her looking at him, a mixture of caution and weariness marring her beautiful face. And she was beautiful. Sean was struck by how exquisite she appeared to him. For a moment he was mesmerised by her eyes. He couldn’t explain it, there was something compelling about them, about the way they seemed to pierce right through him. He didn’t want to let her go. And then she pulled her hands from his, breaking the spell.

Sean quickly tied the corners of the cloth together and stood, reaching into his coat pocket for some coins. He handed the bundle and the coins to the woman, without even looking to see how much money he was giving her. He could see her hesitation though.

“For your trouble,” he explained, urging her to take the money, and that was all the encouragement she needed. Quickly snatching the bundle and clutching it to her chest she took the coins and after a hasty curtsey turned and ran down the alley.

He stood, watching her go and resisting the impulse to call her back, to make her stay with him for a while so he could warm her hands and look into her eyes just a little longer. Then she was gone, turning the corner without a backward glance. Only then did he turn and make his way slowly back to the Piazza, unable to explain even to himself the pounding of his heart or the fact that he felt inexorably sad that he didn’t ask her name or hear her voice, and that he’d probably never see her again.

As he walked back to the hotel, Sean pushed thoughts of the woman from his head and slowly became aware of things around him again. More specifically, the person walking in front of him. There was something about him, about the way he walked that reminded Sean of someone. Even his hair, longer than was the norm for this period, seemed somehow familiar to Sean. Sean was so lost in his musings he didn’t notice when the man stopped to cross the road and walked straight into him.

And when the man turned and looked at him, all the colour drained from Sean’s face.


	4. Chapter 4

Sean all but ran back in the direction of the hotel. His first thought was to get Orlando out of there, on a train to the field where he could send him back. He couldn’t take the chance that Orlando might see what he just saw. Who he just saw. It would tear Orlando apart, Sean was sure of it. And anyway, Sean still could not believe what his eyes had told him. It flew in the face of all logic. That Viggo – _not Viggo, not possible_ – could actually be here, or at least his, what did they call them? Doppelganger. Viggo’s Doppelganger.

Sean’s footsteps slowed as he made his way down Southampton Street towards The Strand. He couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in his head. _What if it really is him? Can you keep this from Orlando? Do you have that right? Or should you conceal this from him? Protect him from this and the possible consequences?_ Sean couldn’t get that face out of his mind. He knew, deep down, it was Viggo. He’d known the man for years, would recognise him anywhere, and he’d been close enough to know it was Viggo he’d seen. It wasn’t just someone who looked like Viggo. Sean had looked into those blue eyes and seen the friend he’d thought he’d lost. Even so, the logical part of his brain refused to accept it. _A side effect from the slide. Orlando passes out, you see ghosts. You miss Viggo and your subconscious let you see what you wanted to see, nothing more._

Sean continued on down the street and over The Strand, a myriad of emotions passing through him, a million thoughts racing through his head. He needed time to think, to get his own thoughts in order, but he knew Orlando would be waiting for him and he couldn’t risk the possibility of the young man leaving the hotel to look for him. He didn’t like to think of what would happen if Orlando should chance to run into Viggo – _not Viggo!_ – alone. He passed through the doors of the hotel, barely even noticing the doorman, and up the wide staircase.

The room was silent when Sean opened the door to their suite and he experienced a moment of panic thinking Orlando had decided to go out despite their earlier discussion. He quickly crossed the room and flung open the door to Orlando’s bedroom, sagging with relief against the frame when he saw the younger man sprawled out on the bed asleep. One of the lights was giving off a dim glow and Sean quietly crept into the room and sat of the edge of the bed to look at Orlando. Despite his peaceful slumber, Sean could see circles under his eyes as if Orlando had been crying. He wondered if he had been too hard on him making him stay behind, but the pang of guilt he felt was short-lived. He’d done the right thing, especially after what had happened.

Now that he was back in the hotel Sean stopped trying to figure out if it was really Viggo he’d seen. What mattered is that it had looked like Viggo enough to make his heart stop beating. What Sean had to decide now was whether to tell Orlando. He was still weighing up the pros and cons when he felt Orlando stir.

When Sean had left Orlando had wandered about their rooms, inspecting various items, before becoming bored. A maid had come in to light the fire and Orlando had desperately wanted to chat with her, but his questions had been met with polite, one word answers and he’d eventually given up. When she had left he’d sat in the lounge, watching the orange glow of the fire for a while, before going to stand looking out the window to the city below.

The light grew dim and he saw the streetlights being lit one by one. A wave of loneliness had washed over him as he watched the people moving about. He’d wandered into his room, removing his jacket and tie, intending to change clothes for dinner and wait for Sean to return. As he switched on the small light he heard the voice inside his head again. _So beautiful the way the light moves over your body_ … It had echoed through his mind and this time Orlando had tried to push it away. He was stuck in the hotel room because of this and he didn’t want to stuff anything up again. His temples began to throb and when he felt the first prickling of tears behind his eyes he’d curled up on the bed.

He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but when he opened his eyes Sean was there looking at him with a strange expression, Orlando’s heart dropped, wondering if he’d said something in his sleep or done something wrong again.

“Hey, how was it?” Orlando said sleepily, rubbing his eyes. When Sean didn’t answer Orlando sat up. Sean’s face was pale and his silence concerned Orlando. “Sean? Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

Sean didn’t answer straight away. He looked at Orlando for a long moment, his mind still struggling with what his heart was telling him, then managed a weak smile. “No, nothing happened. You all rested now? It’s time to get ready for dinner.”

*****

“C’mon, Sean!”

Orlando was standing with his hand poised on the door of their hotel. After enjoying a full-blown eight course meal (the hotel offered twelve but neither Orlando or Sean could pack that much away in one sitting, no matter how scrumptious it sounded), Orlando had finally convinced Sean to go for an after dinner walk. He was almost bouncing as he waited for Sean to get ready.

Sean smiled at Orlando’s enthusiasm and pulled his gloves on. He still had misgivings about Orlando being out and about, but the only other options were to either lock him in the hotel room or send him back. To do that would raise serious questions that Sean didn’t have the answers to. He’d just have to make sure Orlando didn’t go off by himself and, now that he knew what he looking for, Sean would make sure to avert any trouble before it started.

It had just turned 11pm when they began walking down The Strand. Sean had wanted to keep Orlando away from Covent Garden and The Piazza and instead they made their way towards Charing Cross. They passed two theatres along the way, one of which was just emptying, and they paused to watch and listen to the people leaving and making their way home by foot or climbing into one of the carriages that lined the street. They smiled at the women in their finery and tipped their hats to men in finely woven coats with top hats and walking sticks. They waited until most of the crowd had dispersed before continuing and turning down into Villiers Street which had not only Charing Cross Station but another theatre. If they were lucky they’d also see patrons leaving that one.

“So, did you get to see anything interesting when you were out before?” Orlando asked. He was intensely curious about Sean’s outing, but the older man had been surprisingly tight-lipped about it during dinner.

“Hmmmm?” Sean was watching a man in the distance. He was about the same height and stature as…

Orlando looked in the same direction as Sean to find out what was so interesting. There were a few people milling about, but Sean’s eyes seemed to be following one in particular. “Sean? Do you know that man?”

“What?” Sean answered sharply, his attention snapping back to Orlando. He saw Orlando craning his neck to watch as the man walked down the other side of the street ahead of them. Please don’t turn around, Sean thought, please don’t be him, and he grabbed Orlando by the elbow, forcing him to cross the road and down a side street. “No, I don’t know him,” he answered shortly.

“But… wait! Sean, what the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been acting jumpy since this afternoon,” Orlando pulled free from Sean’s grip and stopped walking, determined to find out what was making Sean act so out of character.

Sean ran his hand over his face, forcing himself to take a deep breath and quell the panic forming in the pit of his stomach. For a brief moment he wished they had never agreed to this mad experiment, wondering how the hell they were going to get through another two days.

“I’m sorry, Orlando. I’m just tired and I thought we could take the quick way back to the hotel. I guess this whole day has taken its toll. You don’t mind do you?”

They stood near the corner and Orlando looked back down the street with a frown. He had been certain Sean had been looking at that man and that something about him had upset him. He didn’t notice Sean’s sigh of relief when he saw the stranger had disappeared around a corner and turned back to face him.

“Of course I don’t mind. You should have said something before. I could’ve come out by myself, you know…” As he took in Sean’s features under the dim light and saw the paleness and slightly pained expression Orlando felt a pang of guilt. He felt responsible that somehow, perhaps because of what had happened when they’d made the trip, Sean had pushed himself so he could keep an eye on him. “C’mon then. Let’s get back and get some sleep,” he finished quietly, placing his hand on Sean’s arm and giving it a little squeeze.

“Thanks, mate.”

They fell into step continuing down the side street, walking in silence until Orlando couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Sean, you don’t… regret having me here, do you?”

“What? Whatever made you think that?” Sean answered, surprised that Orlando would think such a thing. He stopped and put his hand on Orlando’s arm.

“I don’t know… maybe because of the fainting thing. But I’m fine, I swear, Sean. I don’t want you to feel like you have to look after me or anything.” Orlando looked down at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He knew how much this meant to Sean and wanted him to know he was okay, he didn’t want to take away any enjoyment this whole experiment held for Sean.

“I know that, Orlando. Listen, I recommended you for this because I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else. And nothing’s happened to change that. It’s just that…” _I saw your dead lover this afternoon_. “Oh hell, I don’t know. It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Sean,” Orlando managed a small smile.

“C’mon, let’s get back. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, remember?” Sean said as they began walking again.

“How could I forget? Your girlfriends’ party in the afternoon, right?”

“Don’t go getting all jealous on me now.”

“As if. It’s them I feel sorry for.”

“Well, you don’t have to come, you know, if it bothers you that much.”

“What? And miss out on the opportunity to see you behave like a fop? No chance.”

“I learned everything I know from watching you.”

“I’ve seen you watching me. If there’s anything you want to confess, now’s your chance.”

“You wish.”

“Ahhhh, sweet denial.”

“Fuck off.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

With that Orlando batted his eyelashes at Sean and took off at a run up the cobbled street laughing before Sean could respond and leaving to Sean to follow, smiling and shaking his head, at a more sedate pace.

*****

Orlando and Sean smiled along with the rest of the patrons as they left the theatre the next night.

Orlando glanced over at Sean and saw the same excitement shining in Sean’s green eyes as he was feeling. He could hardly wait to get back to the hotel where they could discuss the evening in private.

The play had been all they had expected and more. The audience’s response was wonderful, and both men had had to remind themselves that for the most part none of the other people watching the play knew the story. It was its opening season and not yet the classic piece of literature it would become.

Orlando’s smile widened as he looked at Sean. The older man had been much more relaxed this evening and earlier that day at the garden party than the previous night. They hadn’t had a chance to really go sightseeing around the city, but it seemed as if a good night’s rest had done its trick and Sean was back to his old self.

The garden party had been a success. Sean had effectively charmed everyone around him and succeeded in torturing Orlando at the same time. They’d forgotten when they’d made their introductions to the two ladies on the train that there might be other people recently returned from India in society. They’d been reminded when one of the ladies had insisted on introducing them to such a person. Orlando had glared at Sean’s ‘we’d be delighted,’ response and had had to quickly find a plausible reason to excuse himself. Of course, he was then forced to avoid their charming, but persistent, hostesses for the rest of the afternoon. At first he’d been furious with Sean, but as he weaved through the small groups of people with the two women hard on his heels whenever they spotted him, he’d quickly seen the humour of the situation.

By the time they left both men were struggling to contain their laughter. As they turned their backs on the party and walked at a decorously slow pace away, Orlando’s sides ached with held back mirth and they were both grinning like idiots. Sean was the first to break after Orlando had hissed at him from the corner of his mouth “Evil bastard.”

The good feeling had remained for the rest of the day and Orlando felt a warm mellow glow that even the coolness of the night couldn’t dissipate.

“Fancy a drink?” he asked when they stood outside the theatre. There were a number of pubs in the vicinity and they could just about make last orders.

“Sure,” Sean answered. So far the day had proved to be stress free and he didn’t see the harm in one drink before going back to the hotel. As they began to walk away at a leisurely pace Orlando surprised Sean by quickly sidestepping and hiding behind a small group travelling in the same direction. He just had enough time to see Orlando gesture to a spot further up the road, indicating he’d meet Sean there when a sharp voice reached his ears.

“Mister Bean! How delightful!”

Sean sighed inwardly when he recognised the voice as belonging to one of the older ladies they’d met that afternoon. He turned with a smile as she approached and tipped his hat in her direction. She was a large, loud, matronly woman and her quiet husband followed nervously in her wake as she made a beeline for Sean.

Orlando allowed himself a small giggle as he walked a safe distance up the road before stopping to wait for Sean. He fished in his coat pocket for the small silver cigarette case he kept there and took out one of the cigarettes he’d rolled earlier. He leaned back against the building as he lit the cigarette, feeling totally relaxed. From his vantage point he could clearly see Sean under the well-lit entrance to the theatre, but was secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be spotted by the couple he was talking to. They had their back to him and if they turned the light was too dim for them to clearly see him where he stood.

He allowed himself a small smile at the success of his narrow escape. Even though he would’ve liked a little more social interaction with the people of this period, however imposing they may be, having avoided the mystery man from India all afternoon it would be a disaster to bump into him now. Instead he listened to the snatches of conversation as couples and groups of people drifted past him. Mostly the topic of discussion was the play, but every now and then Orlando heard snippets of people talking about other topics; the increasing numbers of automobiles making the roads dangerous, the feminist who had chained herself to a railing a few days before and why would women need to vote when they had their husbands to do it for them…

A small group stopped a few feet away from where Orlando stood. From their conversation he could ascertain they were waiting for a carriage to arrive to take most of them home. They were asking another member of the group if he wanted to ride part of the way home with them. He politely declined and it wasn’t long before their carriage arrived and the group climbed in with one last invitation to the man to join them.

“Are you sure, Viggo?”

The answer was lost to Orlando as his head spun around in their direction, not sure if he’d heard the name correctly. His body tensed and his brow creased into a frown as he looked at the back of the man helping one of the ladies enter the carriage. He shut the door and waved his friends off and then in what seemed like the longest moment of Orlando’s life, the man turned and looked directly at him with smiling blue eyes.

All his breath left him as Orlando felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He couldn’t breathe, his heart felt as if it was being clenched in a vise-like grip and already cold night temperature seemed to drop to sub zero, chilling Orlando to his bones. The cigarette slipped unnoticed from his fingers as he stumbled back against the building, Viggo’s name a soundless whisper on his lips.

He could see the smile slip from Viggo’s face when he saw Orlando’s distress. Orlando vaguely heard Viggo’s questioning ‘Sir?’ over the blood pounding in his ears, but he couldn’t answer him. One of his hands flew to his chest and he fought to calm his now rapid breathing, afraid he’d hyperventilate. Out of the corner of his eye, Orlando saw heads turn toward him and just as Viggo took a step forward, Orlando managed to stumble around the side of the building and out of sight of the street.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

Orlando leaned back against the brick wall and crouched down, his hands on his knees. As his breathing slowed a little he kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, almost fearful to look up. He was afraid that if he looked at the person standing in front of him it wouldn’t be Viggo. Or it would be Viggo. Or some strange, wonderful apparition that would vanish before his eyes.

Then the ‘apparition’ placed a hand on his shoulder. A warm, very solid hand and Orlando finally lifted his head.

“Viggo.” The word was barely a whisper.

“Yes. Forgive me, do I know you, sir? Can I help you?” Although Viggo’s voice was pitched low, Orlando could detect the concern, could see it in Viggo’s eyes. Concern for a stranger he didn’t know. And it was Viggo, of that Orlando was certain. He didn’t know how or why, but the undisputable truth was that his lover was standing right in front of him. The fact that Viggo didn’t recognise him made Orlando’s heart ache so much he wondered how he could bear the pain of it.

“Can you stand?” Viggo asked gently when Orlando didn’t answer. He put his hand under Orlando’s elbow, helping him upright.

“I… I’m sorry… I just…” Orlando stammered. He suddenly felt cold again, all over, except for where Viggo’s hand still cupped his elbow.

“You’re shaking,” Viggo’s concern for the young man was growing by the instant. Although he appeared to be recovering, he was still unnaturally pale and when he began trembling Viggo knew he had to get him somewhere where he’d be more comfortable. “I have rooms not far from here. Will you let me assist you?”

*****

“And the Second Act. Well, it was nothing short of inspired! Don’t you agree, Mister Bean?”

“Indeed, ma’am. In fact I…”

“I said as much to my dear husband, Henry. Henry, I said, that was inspired!”

Sean pretended to listen attentively as the woman prattled on. At one point he caught the gaze of the obviously suffering Henry, who rolled his eyes surreptitiously behind his wife’s back. Sean managed to hide his smile and was wracking his brains for a suitable excuse to leave when he felt the vibration in his pocket. His whole body tensed immediately and he instantly looked up to where he’d seen Orlando standing a few moments before. And saw the spot where he’d been standing was empty.

“Ma’am, please forgive me. I must be on my way.”

“But, we haven’t even mentioned the Third Act! I was saying to Henry, Henry, I said…”

“Please forgive my rudeness, ma’am. But my friend…”

“The one from India?”

“Yes. He’s… ill. I must see to him.”

“Oh, I do hope it is nothing serious. It’s nothing he contracted abroad, is it?” The woman looked at Sean hopefully, eager for a scrap of gossip to relate to her circle of friends the following day.

“It could be. It’s rather serious, I’m afraid. I must go.” Sean took a step away from the couple.

“Oh, you dear man! Yes, go and tend to your friend, don’t delay a second longer! God bless, Mister Bean. Our regards to your friend.”

“Thank you ma’am. Goodnight, sir,” Sean replied, anxious to get away.

He walked away as quickly as he dared. There were still too many people in the street to make the sight of a well-turned out gentleman running madly through the street an acceptable one. Nor could he take out his communicator where he might be seen so he could get a clue as to what was going on. All he knew was there was no sight of Orlando anywhere, it was almost as if he had vanished into thin air.

Sean reached an intersection and hesitated, completely unsure which route to take. He frantically searched the streets for any sign of his companion. He had almost decided to take a right turn when far off to his left he saw two men cross the road and disappear behind a building.

“Oh fuck, no…”

Forgetting entirely about the constraints of society Sean took off at a dead run. He knew the man walking at Orlando’s side and cursed himself for taking his eye off Orlando for more than a second. He had no idea what this must be doing to Orlando, how he had bumped into Viggo, or what they’d said. He just knew he had to get to him. He rounded the street corner where they’d disappeared, and paused for a moment, calling out Orlando’s name just before they turned out of sight again.

“Please, Orlando… please be okay,” Sean prayed and took off after them again.

He’d made it halfway down the street when he heard a scream from up ahead. Turning his head as he ran, down an alley he caught a flash of long blonde hair as a woman struggled with two men. One of them held her arms behind her back while the other prepared to lift her long skirt. Sean felt for the woman, and slowed his pace, looking around frantically to see if anyone was coming to her aid. He felt sick, wanting to help her but desperate to get to Orlando.

And when she turned her face toward him, Sean saw it was the beautiful woman from the day before.


	5. Chapter 5

Orlando blindly followed the man walking beside him, not knowing or caring where he was being led. They didn’t speak as they walked. Their footsteps echoed off the cobbled streets, the sound seemed too loud to Orlando, jarring - his mind couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing. He could see that it must have rained at some point while he was watching the play, his eyes flicked from the reflection of the streetlights on the cobbles to the faces of the people they passed, to the moths hovering around whatever source of light they could find. Once or twice they passed shops with glass fronts and Orlando would catch a glimpse of them walking together, so close they could almost touch, and a jolt would pass through him when he saw it was Viggo walking with him.

Somewhere off the distance Orlando thought he heard someone call him, and then there was a scream, a woman screaming. But it barely registered with him. The man beside him – _Viggo_ – kept walking, so Orlando kept walking. He struggled to focus, to try and make some sort of sense of what was happening, but he couldn’t think and eventually gave up and centred his thoughts on simply putting one foot in front of the other, for now. He could feel his communicator vibrating in his pocket and wondered briefly why Sean hadn’t answered the call from the other side yet. But his head felt like it was full of cotton wool and he couldn’t come up with a suitable answer.

They came to an intersection and looking up briefly Orlando saw the statue of Eros. Somewhere in the back of his mind it registered that they must be in Piccadilly, and the surrealism of seeing that particular statue in these circumstances almost made him laugh out loud. He must have made some sort of noise because Viggo’s head turned to look at him as they rounded a corner.

“Not far now,” he said, his eyes still showing concern for the young man.

Orlando simply nodded and followed.

They made their way up Regent Street, passing the large and not so large shop frontages, before Viggo stopped at the entrance of a tiny shop, no more than a doorway and one window, sandwiched in between two considerably larger businesses.

“I have rooms upstairs,” Viggo explained as he fished for his keys in his coat pocket.

Orlando forced himself to look at the man before him, to search his face for any signs at all that this was not who he thought it was. Viggo’s long eyelashes hid his eyes as he looked down to search for the right key, but Orlando didn’t have to look into them to know this was Viggo - the same dark longish hair, unfashionable for the time, the same cleft in the chin, the same chiselled jaw line. Even the scar on his upper lip.

Having found the right key, Viggo turned to smile at Orlando as he unlocked the door. Orlando tried to smile back, but wasn’t sure if he managed it successfully. In that moment, seeing Viggo smile like that, he looked so much like his Viggo, the Viggo who had smiled at him just like that a million times before. Orlando half expected him to say this was all part of the experiment – that Sean had told Viggo all about it, sworn him to secrecy, and Viggo had come on ahead for some reason. Orlando dismissed the idea instantly; Viggo would never hurt his family and friends so much as to stage his own death for any reason. But this whole thing… it just didn’t make any sense.

Viggo’s smile faded and the concerned look returned to his face when he looked at Orlando, then he pushed the door open and gestured for Orlando to go inside. Orlando stood just inside the entrance, taking in his surroundings, while Viggo shut and locked the door behind them. Viggo flicked a switch and there was a loud buzz as the electric light flickered weakly, barely lighting the room. There was a counter with a partition to the left behind which Orlando could just make out an overstuffed armchair set in front of a false window and curtain that ran from the ceiling to the floor. In front of the chair stood a tripod and what Orlando assumed to be a camera covered with a black cloth.

“You’re a photographer.”

“Yes,” Viggo replied, although it wasn’t really spoken as a question. He turned to move through the room, making his way to the door behind the counter, then stopped and turned to look at Orlando. “Is this where you know me from? Have I taken your photograph?”

“I… um. No, I don’t believe so…” Orlando was concerned to hear his voice sounded weak, even to his own ears. Even more than that, his communicator was still vibrating on and off. He’d have to answer it. Perhaps there was something wrong with Sean. “Do you… I mean… can I use…” he struggled to remember the right words for this time. Thankfully Viggo seemed to know what he was trying to say.

“Of course. This way.”

Orlando trailed behind as Viggo led him through to a hallway with a staircase leading up to the living quarters upstairs. They walked past the stairs down to the back of the building until Viggo stopped before a door right at the end of the hallway.

“Thanks,” Orlando mumbled as he walked through the door into the bathroom. He listened by the door for a few moments after he closed it, but there was no sound of Viggo’s footsteps walking away.

Orlando moved to the far end of the room and fumbled in his jacket pocket for the communicator and flipped it open.

_‘What the hell is happening?? Respond!’_

He took out the stylus with a shaky hand and typed a message back.

_‘All ok here’_ Then waited a few seconds.

_‘Status Subject One: Increased heart rate._  
Status Subject Two: Normal.  
What’s happening with Sean?’ 

“Fuck,” Orlando whispered. As far as he knew Sean was still outside the theatre. Unless he’d realised Orlando was missing and had got himself into some sort of trouble looking for him. He couldn’t give the control centre a message for Sean. To do so might raise too many questions – and Orlando had no idea if he could, or even wanted, to answer them.

_‘All ok’_ Orlando re-typed, with a silent prayer on his lips that it was the truth.

*****

Sean did a sharp u-turn and ran back in the direction of the alley. The woman’s screams were muffled now and as he turned the corner he saw a hand had been placed over her mouth. Her eyes were wild, frantically looking around for help while they filled with tears.

“Oi!!” Sean yelled, drawing the attention of the two attackers away from the girl. He had the element of surprise to his advantage and as he approached he delivered a hard kick to the side of the man crouching in front of the woman fumbling with her skirts. As the man fell to the ground and rolled away Sean roughly pulled the other man from behind the girl and managed to land one blow to the side of his face before he twisted out of Sean’s grasp.

“We’ll be back for ya, whore!” One of the men yelled as they both took off at a run.

“Bloody bastards,” Sean muttered under his breath before turning to the woman. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking away politely while she adjusted her clothing.

“Yes. I’m fine,” she answered curtly, although her voice was soft. Almost as an afterthought she added, “Thank you.”

Sean nodded and ran a hand through his hair anxiously. If he hurried he might still be able to catch up with Orlando, but he couldn’t leave the girl here alone in case the two thugs were still close by. Glancing at the woman again, he could tell by her pale features and the way she had wrapped her thin arms around herself that she was shaken up by the attack, but he couldn’t stay here if he had any hope of finding Orlando.

“Come with me,” he ordered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along, leaving no room for argument. She followed without a struggle and soon they were running along the street where Sean had last seen Orlando. “I’m looking for two men – gentlemen – they were walking down this street…” Sean gave her a brief description of the two men as they moved off, knowing the description could fit any number of people walking home from the theatre, but there was still a slim chance that maybe she’d spot the right couple. “If you see anyone that might be them, let me know.”

They couldn’t travel as fast as Sean had been on his own, and he began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew he’d lost them. They could be anywhere by now, and once Orlando talked to – _Viggo_ – the man he was with, Sean feared he might never see his friend again. They stopped near the statue of Eros and, glancing quickly down each path the pair may have taken and finding nothing, Sean was forced to admit defeat.

“Did you see them?” he asked the girl, muttering a curse under his breath when she shook her head.

Sean’s heart went out her when he looked up again. She had her arms crossed tightly in front of her again, and still had a frightened look on her face. She wore only a thin blouse and skirt with a petticoat. In the alley Sean had seen the holes in her tights when her attacker had lifted her skirt and he imagined the soles of her boots wouldn’t be in any better condition. His communicator was safe in his suit jacket pocket – and vibrating only intermittently now – and he took off his thick wool coat and approached the woman.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly as he placed the coat around her shoulders.

“Miranda.”

He repeated her name, committing it to memory and enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue. “Do you live very far away, Miranda?”

“No. That is… in walking distance.”

Sean could tell she was still wary, still frightened. She obviously trusted him as much as she did those two thugs. He looked around once more in the vain hope that he’d see Orlando somehow walking toward them, already knowing he wouldn’t. If he was forced to leave Orlando in the hands of someone who had the potential to destroy him, then he could at least make sure Miranda was safe.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said, reaching over to take her by the elbow.

“You don’t ‘ave ta,” she spat, jerking her arm away.

“I know I don’t, but I want to make sure those blokes don’t follow you.”

“But I ‘ave ta… work,” Miranda replied, turning a little as a blush rose to her cheeks.

“Not tonight, lass,” Sean told her softly. “I’ll see you right, don’t worry about that. Let’s just get you home safe.”

Her shoulders slumped a little, seemingly in defeat. She nodded and pulled the coat around her shoulders a little more firmly against the chilly air. “This way.”

They didn’t speak as they walked and Sean made sure to give Miranda enough space between them so she wouldn’t feel as threatened by his presence. As they made their way down a shop lined street, Sean could see lights on in the living areas above. He wondered if Orlando could be in one of those houses, or lying in an alleyway, or quietly going insane. He had to find a way to check on him. They passed a tiny alleyway and seeing there was no one around, Sean stopped and gestured toward it.

“You stay here,” he said. “I’ll just be a minute.” He waited until Miranda nodded her head, then walked down to the other end of the alley and took out his computer.

_‘Status Subject Two: OK  
Sean?’_

Sean sighed with relief. Wherever he was, Orlando had managed to get a message to the control centre to say he was okay. Sean used the stylus to type a short message back.

_‘I’m ok’_

There was a slight pause before Sean saw another message flash up on the screen.

_‘Status_  
Subject One: Normal  
Subject Two: Normal  
Work on respond time please’ 

Sean carefully put the communicator away and returned to where Miranda was waiting for him, offering her an apology before they began walking again.

They moved into a rougher part of town, where there were fewer streetlamps and more people milling about in varying stages of drunkenness. A few called out to Miranda as they passed by.

“Found yaself one that likes a bit’o rough, ‘ave ya, Mirsy?”

“Oi Mirsy, ya can send ‘im over t’me when you’re done w’im!”

Miranda ignored the calls, walking with her head down, until they reached a row of dark houses. She took a key from a pocket in her skirt when they stopped before one of the doors.

“To keep the squatters out,” she explained as she unlocked the door and walked inside.

Sean followed and looked around as much as he could in the dark interior. There seemed to be only one room with a chair, rickety old table and a bed in the corner. Miranda lit a solitary candle and Sean could see the bed was covered only with a thin blanket and what looked to be a couple of sacks. The place was cold and damp. There was a fireplace, but he could tell it had been a long time since it had been used.

He watched as Miranda carefully folded his coat and placed it on the chair before turning and walking slowly in the direction of the bed. Even though her back was to him, he could tell she was unbuttoning her blouse.

“Miranda?”

She turned to face him, her hands still on the second button of her blouse.

“You don’t have to do this. This isn’t why I came here,” Sean said kindly, moving to stand in front of her. He placed his hands over hers and gently pulled them down away from her blouse. Looking down at her, Sean felt something similar to what he’d felt the day before when he’d first seen her. That despite the dismal surroundings and her drab clothing, she was the most beautiful thing Sean had ever seen. Even in the dim light her blue eyes sparkled and Sean imagined that if not for the circumstances of her life she’d be confident, mischievous – fiery even. It saddened him beyond measure that she’d never get to be that person, and he’d never get to see it – that after tonight he’d never see her again.

“But I thought… after you helped me…” The mistrust she felt was evident not only in her expression, but also in her body language. She hadn’t withdrawn her hands from Sean’s and he could feel the tension she felt through the contact. He was just about to say something – anything – to reassure her when there was a loud knock at the door, making them both jump.

“Mirsy!”

Miranda gave Sean a small, nervous smile and went to answer the door. Sean stood with his back to her and moved to the other end of the room to give her some privacy. Even so he couldn’t help but catch some snippets of their whispered conversation.

“…customer. He won’t be any trouble… just fed…”

“Please… there’s someone here…”

“Sorry, Mirsy…”

The visitor handed what looked to be a bundle of old clothes to Miranda and left. When she turned back to face him, Sean saw she was embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. He’s asleep. He won’t be any trouble,” she mumbled, and Sean’s eyes widened in shock.

“Is that… a baby?”

“Yours?” he asked when Miranda nodded wordlessly.

“Yes.”

Sean crossed the room and looked down at the little bundle cradled in Miranda’s arms.

“May I?” he asked, and waited for her to nod before he loosened the blanket wrapped tightly around the baby to see its face. He expected to see an undernourished infant, but it was clear by the chubby, rosy cheeks that whatever money Miranda could make was spent on the care and feeding of her child. Sean opened the blanket a little more until he saw a little hand and tucked his finger under it, smiling when the hand instinctively curled around it.

“His name’s Edward… Ned.”

Sean looked up at Miranda’s face and saw it had softened slightly. He was glad she felt comfortable enough to volunteer even that little piece of information. He knew not to ask about the father. More than likely it was some customer who didn’t know – or want to know – that he had a son. Sean thought about his own children, his lovely girls, and knew that nothing would make him part with them. Even though he was divorced from their mothers, he made sure they knew he loved them and were well cared for. But things were different here. An illegitimate child was something to be ashamed of, hidden away in disgrace or sent to an orphanage. With no support from the state – or anyone, it seemed - Sean couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Miranda to try and raise her child alone. His heart went out to her and he wished he could do something to help.

She must have seen something in his eyes when he thought this and Sean watched as her expression became guarded and closed again. She moved away and gently placed the baby on the bed, making sure the blanket was wrapped around him tightly.

“I’m sorry…” Sean began, not even really sure what he apologising for.

“We don’ need yer pity,” Miranda said bluntly. “We do alright.”

“I, um…”

“We may not live in a big fancy ‘ouse like some,” she continued, looking at him almost accusingly. “But Ned’s got everything ‘e needs. And ‘is Da is a real gentleman. ‘E’ll come for us soon.”

_If he was a real gentleman, he’d already be providing for his son_ , Sean thought bitterly as some of the pieces of her life fell into place. Sean could see her, a strikingly beautiful servant in a wealthy home, taken advantage of by one of the men she worked for. He didn’t know if the promise Miranda spoke of came from the man himself or was something she’d dreamt, but he knew either way it was a promise made to be broken. Looking into her eyes now, he could see that deep down she knew it too, but she obviously needed something to hold onto to, something to make her situation more bearable. It was little wonder she viewed him with such suspicion.

“I’m sorry if anything I said offended you,” Sean said, after it was clear she had finished. He could tell she regretted saying as much as she had and her eyes broke away from his to look at the floor. He felt an almost irresistible urge to bundle her up in his coat again and take her and her baby away from this, to somewhere safe, where she wouldn’t have to worry again. If he stayed any longer he knew he might give in to the impulse. “And I’ve taken up too much of your time. It’s late and you must be tired.”

He picked up his coat, and was about to put in on before changing his mind at the last minute. He knew the pockets were empty except for his wallet and he took it out, placing the coat back on the chair. Opening his wallet he took out two ten pound notes and held them out to her. “To make up for tonight,” he explained.

Her eyes widened at the money he held in his hand. It was an enormous sum for someone in her situation. “But… that’s too much. I can’t…” then her eyes narrowed. “We’re not a charity.”

“I know,” Sean said, gently pressing the notes into her hand. “Just to tide you over… until your gentleman returns.” He felt her hesitate for a moment, and then with a slight nod of her head her fingers curled around the notes, taking them from him and quickly placing them in her pocket.

The touch of her hand broke Sean’s restraint and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching up to cup the side of her face with his hand. He brushed his thumb over the smooth skin of her cheek and when she didn’t pull away, he leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft under his and he kept the kiss gentle, his hand slipping down to her neck where he could feel her pulse jump and begin to race. He felt her hand rest on his chest, not pushing him away, just touching, and heard her whimper softly as her mouth opened under his. He traced around her lips with his tongue, tasting her, before moving it inside to slowly circle hers. He felt rather than heard her breath hitch and his body’s response was immediate. He could feel himself begin to harden and had to force himself not to wrap an arm around her and pull her close, crushing her to him so he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts on his chest. He wanted to move his hips against her, letting her feel how much he wanted her. His tongue stroked hers a little more firmly, eliciting another quiet whimper. She tasted faintly of cinnamon and it was only with a supreme effort that Sean’s tongue made a final exploration of her mouth and left to return to his own as he gently pulled away. When he opened his eyes to look at her he saw a blush of arousal across her pale cheeks, making her impossibly even more beautiful, and he knew that if he didn’t leave now, he never would.

He covered her hand on his chest with his own and squeezed it gently. “He’s a fine lad,” he said softly, looking over her shoulder at the baby still asleep on the bed. “You should be proud.” His words earned him a smile that he returned and gazed at her for a moment, wanting to remember the way she looked.

He released her hand and took a step back, glad that his suit jacket was long enough to hide his semi-aroused state. Part of him was almost willing to forget who he was and what he was doing there just so he could stay with her and explore her body, not stopping until he knew all the hidden places that when he touched would make her cry out his name. Instead he mumbled a goodnight and turned away, deliberately leaving his long thick coat for her to use to keep warm. He opened the door and without looking back walked away as fast as he could down the street, not stopping even when he heard her call from her door asking him to wait.

He knew she wouldn’t bring her baby out into the cold night to follow him and quickly retraced their steps until he reached the place where he’d last seen Orlando. The chilly night air helped cool him down and even long after his pulse had stopped racing, Sean kept looking for his friend. For hours he searched the area, every alley and side street, until finally, when the sky began to lighten just before dawn, he was forced to turn back to walk in the direction of the hotel – where he knew that Orlando would not be waiting for him.

*****

After Orlando had emerged from the bathroom, they’d made their way upstairs to the living quarters. Orlando sat on the small couch in the room above Viggo’s shop and told the other man his name when asked, while Viggo poured them a glass of scotch each. It was a large room, with a partition at one end, behind which Orlando assumed was a bed. Along one wall was a small cabinet before which Viggo was busy with the drinks and beside the couch was a long table strewn with photographs. Orlando looked at them while he waited and saw they hadn’t been taken in the studio downstairs.

“Are these yours?” he asked, gesturing to the table as he took the glass Viggo offered him.

“Yes. The shop is how I make my living, but this is what I consider to be my real work,” Viggo answered, moving to stand before the table.

Orlando got up and stood beside him, looking through the photos spread out before him. One in particular caught his eye. The camera had been set up at the bottom of some stairs in what looked to be a church or cathedral of some sort. The photo had been taken at a time when the light perfectly captured the angles and curve of the stone staircase leading up to a huge arched door at the top. Orlando picked it up to inspect it more closely and underneath it was a portrait obviously taken downstairs. There was a huge difference in the two photos, not just in quality, although the one Orlando held was of a far finer class, but in what the two pictures communicated. Orlando felt he could look at the photo of the church for hours and still see something different each time his eyes passed over it. He caught Viggo staring at him out of the corner of his eye and put the photo back down carefully, turning to look at him with a smile.

“Are you interested in photography?” Viggo asked.

“Yes. Well, I mean, I don’t actually take photographs, but I am… fascinated,” Orlando replied. “Do you exhibit?”

“I’ve shown at the Salon twice, but mainly…”

Viggo’s words faded out and Orlando felt light-headed as a wave of disbelief at the situation hit him. It was just too unreal to be standing here in 1905, calmly discussing photography with a man who for all intents and purposes appeared to be his lover who had died almost 100 years in the future. Jesus, what the fuck is happening? He swayed uneasily on his feet and grabbed on to the edge of the table as he felt Viggo reach out to place a steadying hand on his arm.

“You need to sit,” he heard Viggo say as he guided Orlando back to the couch. Orlando tried to clear his head as Viggo sat down next to him, his brow creased in concern. “Do you need a physician?”

“No,” Orlando shook his head. “I’m sorry… I’ll be fine in a moment.” He forced himself to take several deep breaths, then turned to Viggo with a shaky smile. He pushed the thought that this couldn’t really be happening far from his mind. All he wanted was to keep Viggo talking – it didn’t matter what about, just as long as he could listen to that voice and for it to be real and not something in his imagination. “Really, I’ll be fine,” he reassured him. “Could you… would you mind showing me some more of your work?”

Viggo hesitated for a long moment, clearly unsure whether to take Orlando’s word that he didn’t require the services of a doctor or not, then nodded and moved off the couch to gather a selection of photographs.

Orlando let out a long breath and leaned back against the sofa, relieved that Viggo seemed content to let him stay for the time being. He didn’t even think about what was scheduled to happen the next day, when he and Sean were due to make their way back to the field where they’d arrived.

Viggo sat next to him again and spread out a series of pictures on the floor in front of them, picking up each one in turn and telling Orlando about it – where it was taken, what techniques he’d used. Occasionally Orlando would ask him what he was thinking about when he’d taken a certain photo – more out of a desire to keep Viggo talking than anything else, but he soon found him caught up in the man’s answers. As the minutes passed Orlando became more and more convinced that somehow this was the man he’d fallen in love with. The scene they were in right now could be any night back home where Orlando would sit with Viggo and discuss his work, whether it was photography or painting, and Viggo would ask for his opinion – as this Viggo was doing now.

At some point Viggo got up and disappeared behind the partition, returning with a warm blanket that he draped around Orlando’s shoulders. Orlando thanked him quietly and let his head rest against the back of the couch as Viggo’s voice soothed and comforted him on a level Orlando couldn’t even begin to understand. Gradually Viggo stopped talking and, already half asleep, Orlando moved a little closer to him on the couch when his voice trailed off entirely. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to feel Viggo’s arm come around his shoulders as he fell asleep.

And just before dawn, when he woke up, it seemed even more natural to feel the sensation of Viggo’s fingers gently caressing his face.


	6. Chapter 6

“Mmmm… that’s nice,” Orlando murmured sleepily without opening his eyes. Viggo’s fingers were gently brushing over his face, occasionally followed by the back of his hand. _What day is it? Sunday? No classes. Can we stay in bed together for a while longer?_

Orlando’s lashes fluttered against his cheek and he felt Viggo’s hand jerk away before he opened his eyes. The room was still mostly dark. At some point Viggo must have turned off the light before returning to the couch. It took Orlando a few minutes before his brain registered where he was. When he’d first woken up he had actually thought himself to be home – until Viggo pulled away and moved to sit as far away from Orlando on the couch as he could.

He didn’t know how long Viggo had been caressing his face, but Orlando’s body had automatically responded to Viggo’s touch and as he sat up from his reclining position Orlando pulled the blanket around him. He didn’t know if Viggo had witnessed his growing arousal, but he made an effort to hide it anyway as the other man seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable enough.

“Sorry. I’m… sorry,” Viggo muttered, looking down at his hands.

“It’s okay. It felt nice,” Orlando said softly. As much as he wanted to feel Viggo touch him again, Orlando could understand his reticence. In this day and age, homosexual relationships were not only frowned upon by society – they were also illegal and punished to the full extent of the law. He didn’t want to push Viggo into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with, but he wanted to let him know it was okay – that he could be himself.

“I don’t know what you must think of me. When I brought you here, it wasn’t to…” Viggo swallowed nervously. “It wasn’t to seduce you… I’ve never been with…”

“It’s okay,” Orlando repeated. He paused for a moment and then, laying a reassuring hand on Viggo’s arm, he said, “I have.”

Viggo turned to look at him with surprised and wary eyes.

“I don’t mind if you want to… touch me,” Orlando said quietly. He gently took Viggo’s hand and brought it back up to his face, letting his own fall back between their bodies, then waited and prayed for Viggo not to pull away.

He could see the uncertainty in Viggo’s eyes, and then almost imperceptibly Viggo’s fingers began to move. Slowly at first, then getting bolder when Orlando smiled softly at him. Neither man spoke, the only sound in the room was the quiet rasp as Viggo’s fingers trailed over the short stubble along Orlando’s jaw until they reached his lips. Viggo paused, his eyes flicking from his fingers and back up to Orlando’s eyes, then his thumb passed over Orlando’s bottom lip.

“So soft,” he whispered.

Making sure he didn’t frighten the other man, Orlando leaned forward slowly until their faces were just an inch apart. He paused, feeling their breath mingle, giving Viggo enough time to back away if he wanted, then closed the distance and brushed his lips against Viggo’s. When he pulled back, Viggo surprised him by sliding his hand around to cup the back of his neck and drawing him closer, pressing their mouths together.

Orlando allowed Viggo to take it at his own pace and simply enjoyed the feel of their mouths on each other. The lips beneath his felt achingly familiar, and yet uncertain. He ran his hand up the length of Viggo’s arm to rest on his shoulder and after a moment he felt the first tentative flickers of Viggo’s tongue on his lips. Orlando opened his mouth in silent invitation, sighing into the kiss when Viggo’s tongue entered his mouth and met his own. Viggo tasted of wine and tobacco, but underneath that was a faint hint of the man Orlando loved. He moved a little closer to him on the couch, keeping one arm around Viggo’s shoulder while the other reached out blindly to join with Viggo’s other hand resting on his leg. Orlando laced their fingers together, his thumb stroking Viggo’s before moving down to pass over his wrist then up to draw circles over Viggo’s palm – soft, gentle strokes to calm the other man and let him know what he was doing was okay.

Orlando felt his body slowly respond as Viggo continued to explore his mouth. His own tongue began to move and slowly circle around Viggo’s. He heard and felt a soft moan from the other man as fingers tightened around his own. Viggo’s kiss became bolder, his tongue stroking Orlando’s a little more firmly and his hand shifted on Orlando’s head so his fingers could move through his curls. The simple gesture was so familiar to Orlando – so typical of Viggo, his Viggo – he couldn’t stop the low moan that it provoked. Eventually he felt Viggo’s tongue withdraw and the kiss ended. He rested his forehead against Viggo’s, looking into his eyes; the only noise in the room was the sound of their breathing and the soft brush of Orlando’s thumb over Viggo’s palm.

“Would you like to touch me?” Orlando finally asked in a voice barely above a whisper. “I would like you to.”

He smiled and moved back when Viggo nodded hesitantly. He waited for Viggo to rise from the couch and lead the way into the bedroom and a small frown creased his brow when the other man didn’t move. Please don’t let him change his mind.

“Viggo? We’d probably be more comfortable in the bedroom, but are you… would you rather stay out here and talk for a while?” Orlando asked gently, reaching up to run one hand through Viggo’s hair.

He watched as Viggo shook his head silently, a flush appeared on his cheeks as he refused to meet Orlando’s eyes. Orlando sat quietly waiting, his fingers still stroking Viggo’s hair, until he heard the other man speak in a voice so low he had to lean forward to hear him.

“I’m… aroused.”

Viggo’s blush deepened as he spoke and Orlando moved his hand to cup Viggo’s chin, gently turning his head and placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“So am I,” he said quietly, and pushed the blanket aside as he rose from the couch. He waited as Viggo’s eyes left his face and passed quickly over his body, pausing for a moment on the bulge in his trousers, before they returned to his face as he stood beside him.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Viggo,” Orlando said gently as he took a step toward the other man and ran a hand down his arm from his shoulder, feeling as if he was arguing against a lifetime of oppression. His fingers closed over Viggo’s. “Does this feel wrong to you?” he asked leaning in for another kiss.

“No,” Viggo whispered when they parted. “It feels wonderful.”

“And I promise it’ll feel even better soon,” Orlando replied with a smile and another quick kiss before becoming more serious, reaching up to stroke Viggo’s face. “We’re not going to do anything that you don’t want to, Viggo. If you want to stop at any time, you just have to say and we can just talk, okay?”

Orlando paused when they were halfway across the floor. Viggo turned and gave him a questioning look. “Kitchen?” Orlando asked.

“Through there,” Viggo pointed to a door at the other end of the room.

Orlando nodded and gave Viggo’s hand a squeeze before pulling away. “I’ll be right back,” he said and made his way to the door. He looked through several of the cupboards until he found what he needed and returned to find Viggo sitting on the edge of the bed behind the partition.

“For later,” Orlando said, seeing Viggo frown at the item he placed on the small table beside the bed before going to sit beside him. He saw Viggo look down at his hands clasped in front of him and he slipped his arm around his back, letting it trail down and caress him through the fabric of his shirt. He slowly rubbed his hand over Viggo’s back, attempting to calm his nerves, until he turned toward him. Orlando leaned over to capture his mouth with his own, slipping his tongue inside when the lips under his parted. His fingers moved up to bury themselves in Viggo’s hair when the kiss deepened. He heard Viggo moan and answered it softly while he undid the buttons on his own shirt and slipped out of it without breaking the kiss.

Orlando felt Viggo’s fingers brush against his chest and stomach and he leaned back, watching as Viggo’s gaze followed the path of his hand, realising that this was the first time this man had touched another in this way. He reached over to undo Viggo’s shirt, leaving it on but open to reveal his chest and he mimicked Viggo’s touch on his body. His fingers played with the hair on Viggo’s chest until they found a nipple. Orlando watched carefully as he rolled the nipple between his fingertips before giving it a tweak causing Viggo to gasp and look up quickly.

“You like that?” Orlando asked with a soft smile. His heart ached a little when Viggo nodded. Years of experience exploring Viggo’s body meant Orlando already knew the little touches his lover enjoyed the most. He repeated the action and suddenly found Viggo’s body pressed against his, pushing him back onto the mattress as Viggo gave a low moan and covered his mouth with his own. He returned the fervent kiss, moving his hands over Viggo’s shoulders, taking his shirt with them until Viggo shrugged out of it and he could throw it across the bed to the floor.

Orlando groaned when Viggo fully lowered his body onto his and pressed their bare skin together. He could feel Viggo’s cock nudge his thigh and then the first tentative thrusts of Viggo’s hips toward his. He moved his own hips to meet them, letting Viggo feel how hard he was and felt Viggo gasp into the kiss in response.

Orlando’s hands travelled over Viggo’s body, smoothing over muscles and touching hidden, sensitive places he thought he’d never get to touch again. The heat between them began to rise and both men were breathing heavily. Orlando knew they’d have to take things down a notch and gently pulled his lips away from Viggo’s and rolled them over.

“I love the feel of you,” Orlando whispered, holding Viggo’s face with both hands as he settled on top of him and began kissing Viggo’s face and neck. “I want to touch you… taste you…” He heard a small sound from the other man and lifted his head to look at him. “Would that be okay?” he asked gently, stroking Viggo’s face.

“Please…” Viggo whispered, his voice low and husky, full of trust and passion, just how Orlando had heard on a thousand nights before.

“Viggo,” he breathed and lowered his head to capture Viggo’s lips in a kiss before he said anything else, before he told this man who barely knew him what he felt in his heart. _I love you_.

He began to slowly work his way down Viggo’s body, using his hands or lips to cover every inch of skin. The fingers on one hand played with the hairs on his chest while the other trailed down Viggo’s side to rest on his hip as his tongue teased first one nipple and then the other to hard peaks. His ears rang with the sound of Viggo’s soft moans as he moved further down until he eventually reached the top of Viggo’s trousers. Looking up to give Viggo a reassuring smile he undid the fastenings on his trousers and underwear and pulled them off, removing the other man’s shoes as he went. He stood beside the bed to take off the rest of his own clothes, watching as Viggo’s eyes travelled over inch of his skin as it was exposed.

He gently moved Viggo’s legs together and then crawled up the bed to straddle him. His eyes travelled up the length of Viggo’s body, drinking in every detail until they locked with Viggo’s. Orlando couldn’t see the colour clearly in the dim light, but knew that Viggo’s pupils would be dilated with arousal, making his eyes seem a shade darker, almost azure and his gaze more intense. He remained poised above the other man when he felt Viggo’s hand move to travel lightly up his body from his hip to his shoulder and back down over his chest, allowing him time to touch him, until he felt Viggo’s fingers pause over his tattoo.

“Where did you get this marking?” Viggo asked quietly, his fingertips tracing the outline.

Orlando froze for a moment, his mind racing. “South America,” he finally answered. “Aztec design.” He saw Viggo’s blank look and knew his explanation would be accepted as he closed his eyes against the lie – even though it was just a small white lie and necessary, he couldn’t look at Viggo when he said it.

“It’s beautiful,” Viggo whispered, his fingers leaving the tattoo to touch Orlando’s face. “You’re beautiful…”

Locking his eyes with Viggo’s, Orlando tilted his head slightly to bring it flush against Viggo’s palm, and then slowly lowered his body until as much of their skin came into contact as possible. Both men groaned when their erections met, the hard silky flesh pressing together.

Orlando covered Viggo’s mouth with his own, slipping his tongue inside to circle Viggo’s and moving his hips against the other man’s, feeling the heat between them rise.

“I want to feel you… if you are willing,” Orlando gasped when they parted for breath.

He waited until Viggo nodded and then sat up, straddling Viggo’s thighs and leaned over to pick up the small glass bottle from the nightstand. He poured the thick fluid of the olive oil over his fingers, rubbing them together and warming the liquid before leaning over for another quick kiss.

“I need to prepare myself,” he explained. Reaching behind himself, he used two fingers to gently breach his entrance, his other hand moving to slowly stroke Viggo. He rocked his hips slightly as his fingers moved, scissoring and twisting until they brushed over his prostate. His hand on Viggo’s cock faltered for a moment as a surge of pleasure raced through him and he added another finger. He felt Viggo’s hand cover his on his cock and he looked down to see Viggo watching him intently, the passionate expression on his face making Orlando moan. Knowing he was ready, Orlando poured a little more oil on his fingers and used it to coat Viggo’s cock, hearing his breath hitch at the sensation.

Holding himself above Viggo, he guided him to his entrance and waited for Viggo to look at him. He held Viggo’s gaze for a long time, taking in every tiny detail of his expression, filing it away and committing it to memory before finally pushing down and feeling the slow burn of Viggo’s cock as it filled him. He knew he could’ve taken longer to prepare himself, but this was perfect, this was what he wanted – to feel Viggo stretch him, and it didn’t matter that it hurt initially – this feeling had to last him forever.

When he touched bottom Orlando paused for just a moment before moving, lifting himself almost completely off Viggo before moving back down. It wasn’t long before he felt Viggo’s hips come up to meet his and they found a rhythm together. Viggo’s cock pressed against his prostate as it passed and Orlando wondered how long he would last like this. He closed his eyes with a moan, his breath coming fast as their bodies moved together.

With his eyes closed it was easy for Orlando to imagine himself away from where he was. In his mind they were back home, and this could have been any number of nights when they’d just come home from an exhibition or dinner or a play… barely making it to the bedroom before they found themselves naked and sweaty against each other. Viggo… Orlando felt a wave of pleasure wash over him, taking him closer to his climax and could hear Viggo call his name, his voice husky with passion.

He felt Viggo’s fingers tighten around his hips and realised Viggo had stopped moving. Breaking away from his thoughts, he opened his eyes and looking down he saw a look of concern on the other man’s face.

“Orlando? Am I hurting you?”

“No… god no…”

It wasn’t until Viggo reached up and touched his face, and Orlando saw the moisture on his fingers when he pulled away that he realised his tears had finally broken free.

“You’re not hurting me,” he repeated as he caught Viggo’s hand and kissed away the moisture on his fingers. “I just don’t want this to end…”

He saw a frown crease Viggo’s brow. “I don’t know how much longer…”

Orlando gave him a soft smile and leaned down to capture Viggo’s mouth in a gentle but passionate kiss. “It’s okay,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of Viggo’s neck, placing soft kisses on his skin. “Don’t hold back, Viggo. I’m close too,” he whispered as he rolled his hips.

He felt one of Viggo’s hands come up to bury itself in his hair while the other reached around to hold him close, as he responded to Orlando’s movements. Both men gave a low moan as they moved against and with each other, re-establishing their rhythm. Gradually their movements became faster and more erratic as they were driven toward completion. With their breath coming in gasps around their moans Orlando felt the tension in his groin build and could tell Viggo was close to the edge too. He reached down between their bodies and began stroking his cock in time to their movements.

“Soon, Viggo…” he warned and heard Viggo’s moan in answer. He rocked back harder, drawing Viggo deeper into his body and pushed forward into his fist, his fingers squeezing the head of his cock. “Ahh… god, Viggo…” he moaned as he was pushed over the edge, his body gripping Viggo tightly inside him as he spilled himself over his hand onto their stomachs.

He felt Viggo’s hip jerk up, pumping his cock into him until he heard Viggo moan his name and felt the heat of his release explode within him, his muscles continuing to contract and add to both their climaxes.

He could feel Viggo’s fingers gently move in his hair as they both caught their breath and he moved his head to place a series of kisses along Viggo’s shoulder and neck, breathing in Viggo’s scent. Neither man spoke as they softly caressed each other and Orlando found he didn’t want to move and break the warm feeling that enveloped them. He wanted to stay here like this forever. Eventually he felt Viggo slip from his body and giving a sigh he moved off him to lay beside him. He waited as Viggo rolled over so they were facing each other and then pulled the blanket around them.

He reached up to stroke the side of Viggo’s face as he leaned in for a long kiss where Viggo’s tongue met his without any more hesitation, gently exploring and enjoying the taste of each other. When the need for air eventually drove them apart Orlando gave a soft laugh when he saw Viggo blush and struggle to contain a yawn.

“Sleep now,” he whispered and felt Viggo’s arms come around him as his eyes closed.

He lay quietly and watched Viggo for a long time. Even though it was still dark, Orlando could hear the faint sounds coming from the street below as people began their day. At this early hour he assumed they would be servants on their way to a long days work. Off in the distance he heard a cart being pulled behind a horse on the cobbled street, but the noise that held his attention the most was the sound of Viggo’s breathing.

A dim light began to seep in the room and Orlando slowly extracted himself from Viggo as the other man slept deeply. Shivering as he collected his clothes and put them on, missing Viggo’s warmth and the feel of his arms, he kept a watchful eye on the other man before going into the other room.

He briefly searched until he found a bit of paper and a pen and wrote a hasty note, and then moved back on silent feet to stand beside the bed. After a moment of just looking at the sleeping man, he placed the note on the table beside the bed and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Viggo’s temple.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then quietly made his way downstairs.

He found Viggo’s keys and let himself out into the damp morning before locking the door behind him and pushing the keys through the slot in the door, flinching a little as they clattered to the floor.

He wrapped his coat around him a little more closely against the chill as he turned and slowly walked down the street, knowing he had just the time it would take him to get back to the hotel to decide what to do.

As dawn rose on what was meant to be his last day in this time, Orlando’s heart ached as he walked away, and if he had turned back he would have seen a figure in the window with a sheet of paper in his hand, looking down at him.


	7. Chapter 7

Orlando softly closed the door to the suite of rooms in the hotel. Shrugging off his coat, he walked over to the fireplace, throwing the heavy coat over the back of the couch with a thud and awakening Sean in the process. Instantly alert, Sean sat bolt upright on the couch, his eyes full of apprehension as he looked at Orlando standing in front of him.

“What happened?” he asked. “I looked for you everywhere…”

“I met… someone,” Orlando replied hesitantly, unsure how much he should reveal to Sean – how much he wanted to reveal to Sean.

“God, Orlando…” Sean ran a hand over his face, wondering how the hell to deal with this. Orlando seemed calm, rational even… not like a man confronted with a dead lover. “I… when I saw him I didn’t know what to think. And then when I saw you walking away with him – I’ve been so worried…” his voice trailed off as he looked at Orlando, for the first time seeing the confusion and pain in his eyes. Then suddenly Orlando’s expression changed and anger replaced the hurt.

“Wait a minute. You knew?” Orlando gave Sean an incredulous look. Suddenly everything fell into place. Sean’s reluctance to let him explore alone – it wasn’t because he was worried about Orlando’s physical well being – he’d already seen Viggo. And he hadn’t told Orlando about it.

“You knew,” he repeated softly, feeling a huge sense of betrayal.

“Orlando, I…”

“Don’t bother explaining, Sean!” Orlando started pacing around the room, his anger beginning to surface. “All this bullshit about being worried about me, about being concerned they would send me back… it was all a load of shit. You wanted to keep me from him! From _Viggo_ , Sean!”

“It wasn’t like that,” Sean replied, trying to keep calm as he stood from the couch and turned to watch as Orlando paced about the room. “At first I wasn’t sure, and then… Orlando, I don’t what’s happening and I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

Orlando forced himself to take several deep breaths. He knew deep down that Sean would only have his best interests at heart, but he couldn’t get past the fact that Sean had known about Viggo and not told him. A long drawn out silence filled the room while Orlando tried to calm down. Sean seemed unsure what he could say that could make a difference. Not that Orlando was interested in anything Sean had to say at this point. He knew, and he tried to keep me from finding him…

“Are you packed? It’s time to go,” he finally said, his voice flat and emotionless as he turned to look at Sean, his eyes full of accusation.

“Orlando, please…” Sean started, hating the look of betrayal he saw on Orlando’s face, the tone of his voice. He wanted to talk about what happened and to make sure Orlando was okay. Sean didn’t even know if Orlando would be coming back with him. What if he had decided to see Sean on his way and stay here with the man he obviously thought was Viggo. His shoulders slumped when Orlando ignored him and walked past him into his room.

They folded and packed their clothes in stony silence, carefully storing various vials and samples they had collected in hidden chambers in their suitcases. Finally everything had been packed away and Sean sent a message to say they were about to make their way to the field for transport. He stole worried glances at Orlando as they checked out and caught a cab to the train station. Orlando still refused to speak, or even look at him, deepening Sean’s concern. It wasn’t until they had made their final train trip and were walking along the lonely country road to the field until Sean couldn’t take it any longer. He reached over and tried to put his arm around Orlando’s shoulders.

“Orlando…”

Orlando immediately moved away out of his reach. “Don’t. Just fucking don’t,” he said between clenched teeth.

Sean couldn’t keep the hurt he felt from showing as he sighed deeply and they kept walking. Although a huge part of him was relieved that Orlando was coming back with him despite everything he’d been through, he couldn’t help a nagging doubt from creeping into his heart, wondering if he’d done the right thing in trying to protect him. Looking at Orlando he clearly saw the confusion and grief lying under the surface of his anger and he desperately wanted to find some way to comfort and help his friend, and to try and make him understand that he’d done what he thought was best.

It was almost dusk by the time they came to the spot where they’d arrived just three days before. They both checked the area for observers, and bulls, before moving back to their cases and preparing for the slide back home. Sean took his communicator from his pocket, pausing before activating it to contact the others back home. Flashing through his mind was the image of Orlando lying unconscious on the ground and he felt a sense of unease at the thought of that happening in the control centre.

“I’ll be fine,” Orlando said before Sean could say anything, obviously seeing the concern on Sean’s face and guessing what he was thinking. “Just do it… before I change my mind.”

Sean heard Orlando’s voice waver and saw the way he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, a frown marring his features, looking as if he may decide to stay after all.

_Area checked. All in place and ready to go. How’s everything there? Sean tapped in._

_Status ok. Systems in place and countdown started. 20 secs to go. It’ll be good to see you guys._

Sean gave a small smile and put the device away. It’ll be good to be home, and away from this insanity, he thought.

“20 seconds,” he told Orlando who replied with a nod and together they waited in silence until the field began to shimmer and the world seemed to fall away.

*******

It seemed to take an age before they were finally allowed out of the control centre and finally back home. The slide back went with without incident and Orlando had pointedly ignored Sean since then. The samples had been taken away for analysis and then a seemingly never-ending list of questions had begun. The only time Orlando had looked at Sean was when the question had come – Were there any unforeseen unusual occurrences? Orlando raised an eyebrow at Sean, obviously waiting to see if Sean was going to say something. ‘ _Well, actually, Orlando’s partner turned up alive and well and living in early 20th century London. Funny, huh?_ ’

“No, nothing…” Sean had replied quietly, meeting Orlando’s gaze.

Finally they’d been allowed home for a few hours rest before having to report back again in the morning. Sean was certain Orlando could feel his worried gaze as they changed and made their way out of the centre. As they left the building, Sean experienced a moment of vertigo as the full impact of the bright artificial lights of the carpark and acrid smells of the 21st Century assaulted his senses. As he tried to steady himself, he saw Orlando stride to his car, not pausing even when Sean called out his name.

Sean gathered himself together and headed for his own car, following Orlando’s vehicle as he drove home. Knowing that Orlando was ‘safe’ he needed to talk to him – to make sense of what happened as much for himself as for Orlando’s sake. More importantly, he had to make Orlando see he’d done what he had out of friendship, and that he was still Orlando’s friend, was here if he needed to talk.

He parked his car outside Orlando’s house and hurried up the path to follow him into the house. Walking up the steps of the porch, he saw Orlando had obviously known he was there, and left the door open for him.

“Orlando?” he called, walking into the darkened house, shutting the door behind him. When he got no answer, he made his way through the house, searching the empty rooms, until he came to the door leading out to the deck and saw the outline of Orlando standing looking out into the yard.

“Orlando…” he said quietly, taking a few steps onto the deck.

“Say what you have to and then leave me alone,” Orlando replied bitterly.

“I did what I thought was right…” Sean started before being cut off when Orlando spun around to face him.

“And what gave you the right to decide that?” Orlando demanded, his anger evident in both his voice and on his face. Sean saw Orlando’s hand clench into a fist at his side and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the impact that never came.

“I’m not going to hit you,” Orlando said quietly after a long pause. “But I think you deserve it.”

“I wanted to protect you,” Sean tried to reason.

“No. You didn’t want anything to happen that might upset your little experiment,” Orlando shot back.

Sean stared at him incredulously for a long moment. “You believe that?” he whispered, feeling as if Orlando had actually hit him and knocked the breath from him. “You actually think that the experiment meant more to me than you do? Or Viggo?”

“You tried to keep me from him!” Orlando shouted. “I don’t know how but you knew Viggo was there and you didn’t tell me! And you of all people knew how much I loved him… how empty I’ve been without him…”

“And you think you have the monopoly on that?” Sean shouted back, his anger rising. “I saw him, yes. But I wasn’t sure… How could I be? The first time I thought it was simply my mind playing tricks on me, making me see what I wanted to see,” he ran a hand through his hair and started pacing the small deck. “You think you’re the only one to feel his loss? I’ve lost my wife and my kids, and I can deal with that. At least I still see them sometimes and it was probably my own doing anyway. I’ve always been married to my job and a piss poor husband. But to lose my best friend so senselessly, in a stupid bloody accident… Of all the people in my life, apart from my girls, he was the only one I thought would be there forever.”

Sean took a deep breath and turned to face Orlando. He could see the shimmer of tears in the other man’s eyes and instantly felt guilty for his outburst. Those were things he’d never told anyone, least of all Orlando who had his own grief to cope with.

“I’m sorry, Orlando,” he said, walking over to stand in front of him. “I was confused. I didn’t know if he was real or a figment of my imagination, or maybe just someone who looked liked him. When I first saw him, it ripped my heart out, and if it did that to me, I had no idea what it would do to you… But if I could have been sure… if it really was Viggo, I wouldn’t keep you apart.”

“It was him,” Orlando whispered.

The rational part of Sean’s brain immediately went into denial. _Nonononono. What the HELL are you saying?! It wasn’t. It couldn’t have been_. Then an image swam in front of his vision. He clearly saw himself on that street corner as the man he’d been following turned and he’d looked into the clear blue eyes of his friend.

Looking back at Orlando, he saw his face streaked with tears and quickly closed the distance between them. At a loss for words, he put his arms around Orlando, holding him close and feeling the sting of tears in his own eyes. They stayed that way for a long time, their arms wrapped around each other, until slowly Sean felt Orlando’s sobs subside.

Pulling back, Orlando wiped at his eyes and moved to sit on the edge of the deck, his feet dangling over the side and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. Lighting one, he offered the pack to Sean when he sat beside him.

“You’re not going to tell the people at the control centre?” Orlando asked quietly after several minutes of silence while they smoked their cigarettes.

“No,” Sean shook his head. “I can’t even understand it myself, much less explain it to someone else. And what happened… it was between you and Viggo. No one else needs to know.” He took a deep drag on his cigarette, realising that he didn’t even know himself what _had_ happened between the time Orlando disappeared and when he returned to the hotel. “Orlando, when I saw… Viggo… he didn’t seem to recognise me, even though he looked right at me and was as close as you are now. Did he…?”

“Know who I was?” Orlando finished for him. “No,” he sighed when Sean nodded. “And yet I know there was some connection. I know the things we did he wouldn’t have done with someone else, a contemporary…”

Sean sat in silence as Orlando told him what had happened that night, the photographers studio, the discussions he’d had with Viggo, falling asleep on the couch, and what happened when he woke up.

“Maybe it was irresponsible of me to allow that to happen,” he continued quietly. “But I felt like it was my only chance to… say goodbye to him. As if that one night had been granted to me, to remember and keep forever, and all the tiny little details I took for granted before I could commit to memory.”

Sean reached over and rubbed Orlando’s shoulder, offering what comfort he could. “So you only ever thought about it as one night?” he asked, thinking back to that night, and his distress that he’d never see Orlando again.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about staying,” Orlando answered. “Lying in that bed next to him, I thought about what it would be like, to live the rest of my life there if he’d have me. And then I realised that it would all be a lie. I’d have to lie to him every day for the rest of our lives, and I couldn’t do that. And there’s something else, just as important,” he said, pausing to throw the butt of his cigarette away and watching as the embers died out in the dark garden. “When I first met Viggo, he told me that if I wanted him to be part of my life, I had to include Henry. When Viggo and I became life partners, Henry became part of my family too. I love that kid more than anything, there’s more of Viggo in him than he realises, but he’s been through so much. How could I hurt him even more by disappearing?”

Sean wrapped his arm around Orlando’s shoulders and said nothing. He thought back to when Viggo had first told him about Orlando, that he’d met someone special. Back then Sean had been still recovering from his second divorce and had cautioned Viggo to be careful, especially once he knew how much younger Orlando was. He really hadn’t expected it to last and had prepared himself to be a shoulder for Viggo to cry on when Orlando left him for someone younger, more exciting, someone who had more in common with him. He’d voiced his concerns to Viggo, who had responded with the calm assurance of someone who had total confidence in his lover and security in their relationship and Sean hadn’t brought the subject up again. Over time he’d come to accept Orlando, seeing how happy he made Viggo, and eventually even he had to admit that despite their differences they seemed to belong together. One night while he was more than a bit drunk he’d told Viggo he thought of them as pieces of a jigsaw – totally different shapes that may have an image of their own, but fit together perfectly to form a completely different picture that you couldn’t see when you looked at them separately. He’d been rewarded with one of Viggo’s delighted grins and a crushing bear hug that had knocked the breath from him. But it was only now he was beginning to see glimpses of a side of Orlando that Viggo had always seen, and realising just how lucky Viggo had been to have found him.

After a time he felt Orlando relax against him, his head coming to rest on Sean’s shoulder.

“I’d go and get horribly drunk if I wasn’t so fucking drained,” Orlando said softly.

“Probably best if you don’t, it’ll only make you feel worse, and give you a headache to boot,” Sean replied, tightening his arm around Orlando’s shoulders when he heard the other man sigh sadly. Although it was getting late, and they both needed some rest, he knew he didn’t want to leave Orlando like this. “Orlando… if you want I can stay for few days. You know, in case you need someone around to talk to.”

Orlando seemed to think about it for a moment before lifting his head to look at Sean. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he whispered.

Sitting alone on his bed afterwards, Orlando picked up Viggo’s photo from the nightstand, his fingers sliding over the glass as he looked at it. He saw Viggo’s face smiling back at him and even though it was just a photograph, an image from a time that seemed so long ago now, he saw recognition in Viggo’s eyes. He wasn’t looking directly at the camera, but at Orlando as he took the photo, and his eyes showed he was looking at his lover, his partner; and beyond the look in his eyes his soul carried the memories of the life they shared.

He knew that even if he had stayed in 1905 he could have built another life there, with a different set of memories to cherish, but although his heart ached he knew he had made the right decision. He knew that the man he’d met in the past had somehow carried the same soul as his Viggo, but it was this man in the photograph that Orlando had built a life with, and it was him that Orlando yearned for. The one who knew his favourite meals, who teased him about his clothes or the products he used on his hair, who knew how he liked to be touched and could make his breath hitch with a single word or look.

Silently replacing the photograph, he stripped down to his boxers and crossed the room to the dresser, pulling out one of Viggo’s old t-shirts to wear. It had long ago lost Viggo’s scent, but even though it was tatty and covered in paint stains, Orlando still kept it to wear for times when missing Viggo seemed unbearable. A sudden noise made him pause as he pulled it over his head, then a smile settled over his face when he realised it was the sound of Sean gently snoring in the spare room.

Pulling the oversized t-shirt down he padded across the hall, looking in on the sleeping man. It wasn’t until Sean had offered to stay that Orlando had realised that he didn’t want to be alone. Now that it was over and they were home, he felt emotionally and mentally battered and just having the companionship of someone who had not only been through it all with him, but who had been a constant support since Viggo’s death made it easier for Orlando to cope.

Looking at the exhaustion plainly etched on Sean’s face as he slept, Orlando felt a sense of guilt for the way he’d treated Sean. He’d felt betrayed, yes, but he knew Sean would do anything it took to have Viggo back as well. Orlando couldn’t have said what he’d have done in Sean’s place, but he couldn’t blame him for trying to protect him. He knew the trust he had in Sean, that Viggo had had in him, wasn’t misplaced.

Resolving to make sure that Sean knew how much he appreciated his friendship, Orlando quietly closed the door to the spare room and returned to his own. Climbing into bed, he gave the picture on the nightstand one last glance before turning out the light and sinking into his own exhausted dreamless sleep.


End file.
